


what a wonderful world

by bevioletskies



Series: twenty questions [6]
Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Attempt at Humor, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Multi, Secret Santa, Snowball Fight, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevioletskies/pseuds/bevioletskies
Summary: The Guardians’ last holiday season had been spent in jail on an alien planet (don’t ask), so Peter's determined to make their first real Christmas on Earth the best it can be. Which, of course, means Secret Santa. And snowball fights. And baking cookies. And yeah, okay, maybe he’s getting a little ambitious.





	what a wonderful world

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t read the main fic, all you need to know is: the Guardians attend a superhero school on Earth, and therefore are approximately ten years younger than their movie counterparts. Peter and Gamora are in an established relationship after being in a fake one for a few months.
> 
> As for the other relationships tagged on this particular one-shot, Mantis/Nebula is implied (we're getting there, fam), and Rocket/Lylla and Drax/Hovat are mentioned!
> 
> Unlike the other one-shots, this is more a collection of vignettes than a linear story. Everything is still in chronological order, but it’s implied that there’s a gap between each segment, and there’s no overarching plot other than, you know, Christmas. Happy holidays, everybody!
> 
> Fic title is from the song [What A Wonderful World](https://open.spotify.com/track/29U7stRjqHU6rMiS8BfaI9) by Louis Armstrong.

“ _Oh, what a ni-i-ight_ ,” Peter sang, hopping up onto the kitchen counter in the process. “ _Late December, back in '63…_ ” A sudden slam on the table behind him caused him to nearly tumble right off the edge, his voice coming to an abrupt stop with a high-pitched squeal that he couldn’t say he was proud of. He turned slowly, wincing a little at the sound of his pant pocket studs dragging across the countertop.

“Peter, it’s too early for this nonsense,” Gamora said sternly. “I’d like at least another hour of sleep before we have to go check on the engine.”

“Dance with me, honey!” Beaming, he leaped back onto the floor and took her hands in his in one swoop, doing what she supposed was meant to be an intentionally awful impression of a jig, swinging her about the living room with reckless abandon. “ _But I was never gonna be the same, what a lady, what a night…_ ”

“Did you drink an entire pot of coffee this morning? Or maybe some motor oil? What is _happening?_ Even _you_ aren’t usually this...hyper.” Gamora reluctantly allowed him to pull her closer, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back. She softened at the touch, knowing it was difficult to be mad at him when he was simply just eager to celebrate. “Peter…”

“Indulge me for like, one minute. Please.”

_Oh, what a night...hypnotizing, mesmerizing me...she was everything I dreamed she'd be...sweet surrender, what a night…_

“Fine, but we’re fixing that engine as soon as we’re done. I can’t imagine it _didn’t_ ice over during last night’s snowfall,” she sighed as they slowed to a two-step, resting her head on his shoulders, standing slightly on her toes to reach. Her arms wound around his middle, clasping behind his back, inhaling the scent of the gingerbread cologne Mantis had gotten him as an early Christmas present. She usually wasn’t one for sweet scents, but secretly, she had gotten so comfortable nestled in Peter’s embrace that even the worst of perfumes couldn’t deter her for long.

Peter leaned down into her, nuzzling his face into her neck. “Of course, Gamora. Whatever you want.” He hummed quietly. “Love you.”

Her gaze flickered around the room briefly before landing back on the boy tucked against her. “I love you, too.”

_Oh, what a night...why'd it take so long to see the light...seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right...what a lady, what a night…_

Once the song was over, the two of them bundled up in their warmest winter coats and gingerly made their way off the Milano onto the loading bay, where they could get a proper look at the damage done during the night. It was mid-December, exams had finished, and most students had already left campus to go home for the holidays to be with their families. For the Guardians, “home” and “family” meant staying right here on this very ship. A ship that was currently dripping with wet, messy slush.

“Are you sure we don’t need Rocket?” Gamora asked. “He would be much better suited to this sort of thing.”

“ _You_ try draggin’ him out here in this weather,” Peter retorted. “If it was up to me, we’d all be hiding out in the dorms and leave the Milano alone for the next couple weeks, but he refuses to leave. Snow’s pretty heavy this year.”

“And once again, you and I are responsible for making food and supply runs,” she sighed, picking up a snow scraper and beginning to work on a large section of icy buildup over the engine’s hatch. “They complain about never getting to spend time with us, and yet they never come along when we actually go anywhere, arguably the best time to talk.”

“Well, we’ve got two full weeks ahead of us,” he said, flinging his arms out dramatically and nearly spraying her with snow in the process. “That's tons of time for just hanging out, even with our ship frozen over. At least it gives us an excuse to cancel all our jobs.”

Gamora’s gloved fingers slid over the hatch’s door handle, tightening their grip. She braced herself with one foot against the side of the ship and yanked - _hard_. The door opened with a violently high-pitched shriek, causing Peter to jump and clasp his hands over his ears. “And yet, we’re _still_ working.”

“I think I’m deaf now,” Peter said dizzily, rubbing his palms over his temples. “You’ve deafened me.”

“This might be the worst way to spend our anniversary,” she continued, ignoring Peter’s antics as she began poking around inside with her wrench. “But at least I’m becoming more competent at this sort of thing, you know, working on the ship. At least, that’s what Rocket says, and the fact he even thought to say so tells me it’s actually true.”

“Hey, you remembered,” he grinned, moving forward to squeeze her hips affectionately. “I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but - ”

“ - but you thought I wouldn’t want to hear it,” she finished, turning to face him. “I know, I know. Peter, I promise I’m as invested in this relationship as you are. It’s just that I find anniversaries to be a superficial celebration of the passage of time, that’s all. I enjoy milestones, _accomplishments_ , instead. They’re much more memorable than a singular date on the calendar to me. They _mean_ more.”

“I get it. I totally get it. And you’ve always been a goal-setter.” He gently kissed her on the nose, sliding his arms around her once more. There was something immensely comforting about holding her close. “What’s been your favorite milestone so far?”

She chewed on her lip in consideration, thinking his question over, her hands coming to settle on his chest. “The first time we woke up together as a couple. You rolled right over, held me just like this, and said what I had been thinking - that it felt like we had already been together forever.”

“I was kinda worried that I made you uncomfortable as soon as I said it,” he admitted. “But you really know how to surprise me sometimes.”

“Believe me, I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable,” Gamora laughed. “I’m never one to shy away from speaking my mind.” She patted him on the backside very suddenly, causing Peter’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. “Come on, now. Let’s get to work. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go back inside, have breakfast, and watch one of those Christmas movies you keep telling me about.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Peter said cheerfully, stepping back to let her begin.

Two hours later, Yondu stumbled out of his bedroom, yawning, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, only to let out a startled cry at the sight of the two bodies curled up on the couch together. “Aw, hell, it’s too early for this!”

“It’s 10 AM, Yondu, you missed breakfast,” Gamora said without looking away from the television screen. “And you’ll have to cancel your date tonight, everything’s frozen over. I wouldn’t go out in that weather if I were you.”

Peter lifted his head from Gamora’s lap. “You had a date?”

“Why you sound so surprised, boy?” Offended, Yondu flicked the toothpick he was chewing on in Peter’s direction before ambling into the kitchen, digging around the pantry for some bread. “Just some cute SHIELD agent, that’s all. No biggie.”

“Is everyone tryna find dates for the Christmas party or something? Even Mantis said she might give it a shot with that girl she likes,” Peter asked, confused.

“We can’t all be as lucky as you two,” Rocket drawled, emerging from his own room, Groot in tow on his shoulder as always. “Some of us don’t get to spend every damn day hanging out with our _girlfriends_.” He sneered the last word like it was something dirty.

It was Yondu’s turn to be surprised, the butter knife hovering halfway in the air. “You sayin’ you had a girlfriend before, rat?”

Rocket’s face suddenly shut down, the usual smirk fading away in favor of anger. “Shut up.”

“It was just a question,” Yondu said defensively, though he bowed his head in apology. Peter glanced up at Gamora, exchanging curious looks with her before settling back down against her thighs, her fingers moving to massage his scalp.

“Hey, uh, Rocket, Gamora and I already defrosted the engine and did a performance check, so you don’t have to worry about that today,” Peter called, watching cautiously as he crossed the room to pull down one of the main holo-screens.

“That’s good. Thanks, Quill,” Rocket said tersely, keeping his back to them as he began navigating through the ship’s interface.

“Do you have plans this weekend, Rocket?” Gamora asked tentatively, her fingers beginning to slow to a near stop.

“Yeah, uh. I was gonna hang out with Groot. Maybe go over that vocabulary book you guys bought him.” The tension in his shoulders eased up a little as Groot snuggled a little into his cheek in gratitude. “Probably do it alone.”

“Are you sure you don’t want help? I mean, now that Gamora and I can understand him too, it’ll be less work for you,” Peter suggested.

Rocket slammed a paw very suddenly against the holo-screen, aggressively closing all the menus he had pulled up. “Y’know what, I don’t think I wanna hang around in here if everyone’s gonna be all talky-talky, alright? I’m gonna go work upstairs instead. No one follow me, I ain’t in the mood.” Groot let out a small whine of protest as Rocket set him down on the coffee table before storming off up the ladder.

“I shouldn’t’ve asked,” Yondu sighed as he settled down at the table with his breakfast. “Rat’s been real tetchy lately. Y’think it’s just the weather? Or something school-related, maybe?”

“It’s Rocket,” Gamora shrugged as if was the only answer they needed. “He’s got a temper, and asking him about it will only make it worse. Just leave him be for now. He’ll come to us if it’s really important.”

“Peter?” A very nervous-looking Mantis appeared at the end of the corridor, twiddling her thumbs. “May we talk in private? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Peter stood almost instantly, concerned, squeezing Gamora’s shoulder before moving to join Mantis in her room. She hastily shut the door behind them, a wild, almost terrified look in her eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I am so _scared_ ,” Mantis whispered, taking shaky steps forward into Peter’s chest. His arms went up around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. “I do not know what to do.”

“Don’t know what to do about what?”

“What do...what do you do when you have romantic feelings for two people at the same time?”

 _Oh_. Out of all the worst-case scenarios that had been racing through his mind in the last thirty seconds, he hadn’t expected _that_. Peter’s heart broke a little for his sister at the very thought. In many ways, he had been lucky with his relationship with Gamora. He had never experienced truly deep, romantic feelings for anyone before her, and although it had taken them a while to get to where they were now, neither of them ever wavered, never found themselves even _considering_ the possibility of liking someone else at the same time. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make Mantis feel worse. “I don’t know, Mantis, I...I never had that happen before. But you can talk it through with me if that...if it helps?”

He gently led her over to the bed, where they sat side-by-side, their socked feet pulled up onto the mattress. She was curled into herself now, arms wrapped protectively around her legs, her chin resting on her knee, staring unblinkingly at the door opposite them. She had never looked so childlike before, so completely and utterly lost, at least, not since they had first found her on Ego. “I know what you have all been thinking. About who it is. And you were incorrect. At least, at first.”

“You mean…” Peter swallowed.

“Yes,” Mantis murmured. “And I am worried that the rest of you have put that thought into my head, instead of it forming on its own. Does that make any sense?”

“You’re worried we’ve pressured you into thinking you have feelings for her,” he said carefully. “Mantis, I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to talk about all this. It’s your feelings, not ours.”

“It has been very difficult for me,” she admitted. “I am not very good at understanding myself sometimes. But I want to. I want to know who I am, outside of being someone else’s person. Ego’s assistant, your sister, a member of the Guardians...who am _I_ , Peter? And what is it that I want? What am I meant for?”

“I think those are questions only _you_ get to answer,” he replied, reaching to squeeze her hand. “But if you need help figuring that out, I’m here for you, okay? And maybe it’ll help if you try talking to Gamora, too. She’s gotten pretty good at helping me with _my_ emotional crises,” he added with a chuckle. “Knowing yourself before you get involved with someone else is usually a good idea. She’ll probably tell you the same thing.”

“You think so?” Mantis sniffled a little, wiping at her watery eyes.

“Gamora’s been through hell and back, we all know it. And I don’t think she would’ve even considered dating me if she couldn’t feel good about herself. And, y’know, maybe that doesn’t apply to everyone, because hell, no one’s sure of themselves all of the time. But if you’re super stressed out about it, then maybe you should start there. You can do it, Mantis. I believe in you.” He wrapped her in a big hug, kissing the top of her head.

She curled into him, laughing softly. “You have become so good at this, Peter. Advice-giving, I mean.” He was pleased to hear her voice already coming back stronger, warmer, like it always did.

“Comes with the job, I guess,” Peter shrugged. “Leader, brother, boyfriend. All of the above.”

“I’m sure Gamora would agree with me that you are doing an excellent job at all three,” Mantis grinned in return.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Gamora was tapping her foot idly as she waited, though she was keeping a steady eye on Groot. “I am Groot,” he pouted, burying himself deeper into the couch cushions as if he were attempting to disappear entirely. She immediately wrapped a hand around his middle and dragged him back out, frowning at him.

“I told you, no opening presents until the day of,” she said sternly. “Some people haven’t even gotten their gifts yet. Peter, for example.”

“I heard my name, did ya miss me?” Peter strolled back in with a cheesy smile on his face, arms open wide. Gamora glanced up at him, unimpressed.

“You’ve been gone for all of ten minutes, Peter. The silence was welcome,” she snarked, though she moved to lay her head on his chest the instant he sat back down. His broad shoulders made for a surprisingly comfortable pillow. “Groot’s complaining about not getting to open presents yet, despite the fact we have almost none ready, and we haven’t even gotten the tree yet. _You_ were the one who insisted on us fulfilling holiday traditions this year.”

“I’ve been busy. Finals were awful,” Peter said defensively, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ve got time, and besides, the weather’s awful. No one’s getting a tree today. We’ll be lucky if we can even leave the ship _tomorrow_.”

Sighing, Gamora pulled up the blanket around them, releasing Groot so he could run up Peter’s torso and settle in on his other shoulder. “I suppose it’s better than last Christmas. I still don’t know how you ended up landing in jail, and then when we went to bail you out, _we_ somehow got arrested, too.”

“I think that duchess liked me a little _too_ much,” he said lazily, letting his head fall against the armrest.

“She had the most irritating voice I’ve ever heard in my life, and that’s saying something.” Gamora began picking at a piece of invisible lint on Peter’s sweater, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Is that jealousy I detect in your voice?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, poking him in the stomach with a sharp fingernail. “You have some odd fascination with the idea that I’d be jealous of anyone romantically attracted to you. Besides, _I_ wasn’t attracted to you at the time, so that doesn’t even count.”

“I am Groot,” Groot countered, his eyes wide as he watched them converse. It seemed to be one of his favorite pastimes.

“Exactly, thank you, Groot,” Peter said triumphantly. “So you’re saying there _was_ a time.”

“Well.” Gamora turned her head entirely so her face was practically buried in the back of the couch. “It’s hardly a secret that I was suspicious of your relationship with Cindy. But that’s only because you were my ‘boyfriend’ already, and I was concerned about how it was going to look to others if you were interested in another girl, and _why_ are we still discussing this? We should be talking about _you_ not going holiday shopping yet, even though you were the one practically begging us to do this Secret Satan - ”

Peter let out a choked laugh. “It’s...it’s _Santa_ , honey. Satan’s a different...uh...person.”

She frowned, her irritation growing. “Does it matter?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna get those two mixed up.” He lifted a hand to run his fingers through her hair affectionately, his thumbs running soothing circles over her temples. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just find it kinda cute whenever you get your references crossed. It gives me like, the weirdest visuals. Santa with a pitchfork and a tail - ” He cut himself off with a snort. She continued to look irked. “I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Please don’t murder me.”

“You’re lucky I like you.” She pinched him in retaliation. “Well, I already did my shopping with Mantis and Drax. Groot made Rocket and Yondu take him last week, which they claim is the reason they did rather subpar on their exams - as always, I’ve chosen not to listen to them - so that leaves you and - ”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Peter turned over, groaning into the cushions. “Please don’t tell me I’m going Christmas shopping with _Nebula_. I take back my request, murder me _now_.”

* * *

Quill.” A curt nod, refusal of eye contact, arms folded across her chest. Yes, that was Nebula, alright.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like Nebula - in fact, he liked her just fine, more than ever thought he would when they had first met on Knowhere while she was on a rampage, hunting Gamora down and nearly killing them all in the process - but it was rather the fact that, well, he was still kind of terrified of her. Just the tiniest bit. And who could blame him? She had a tendency to lurk in the background, no matter where they were or what they were doing. She somehow managed to fade into her surroundings, silently observing, whether during team meetings or dinner. And then, very suddenly, she would have a snarky quip or a violent outburst, the latter of which would cause Peter to have what felt like a mild heart attack.

However, Peter knew Nebula was of the utmost importance to Gamora. Despite constantly butting heads, he knew when it came down to it, the two sisters loved each other fiercely, though they would never outright admit it. He wanted to understand Nebula better, not just for Gamora’s sake, but for the sake of the entire team. He knew her general personality, her behaviors, her quirks, so to speak, but still knew so little of what she would be like as a teammate.

“This doesn’t have to be weird,” Peter told her as they got into the car (a cozy little hatchback, courtesy of Stark as always). “Why would it be weird? It’s just you...and me...hanging out together. Like we’ve...we’ve never done before.”

“Are you going to insist on talking the whole way?” Nebula buckled her seatbelt and promptly kicked her snow-covered boots up onto the dashboard, spraying little shards of ice everywhere, including the console, the emergency brake, and Peter’s arm.

“I could put the radio on instead,” he offered.

“Are you incapable of complete and total silence?” Nebula asked. “Or is it just that you like the sound of your own voice?”

“Right, I can already tell this is going to be a freaking joyride,” he muttered under his breath.

A couple hours of awkward silence later, the two of them arrived at the nearest mall, which, as predicted, was crowded with panicked shoppers, screaming children and babies, and salespeople who looked all of five seconds away from bursting into tears. Peter had to circle the parking lot at least three times before he managed to snatch up a spot furthest from the entrance, resulting in him slipping several times as they walked towards the doors. Nebula rolled her eyes at every last occurrence.

“Well, aren’t you the picture of grace,” she sighed when they finally reached the doors, yanking them open and practically stomping in. Peter could only watch in bewilderment as she began shaking more snow off her boots, not unlike a small dog. However, when she moved as if to make a run for it, he jumped forward to catch her wrist.

“Hey, hey, I promised Gamora we’d stick together, so you aren’t going anywhere without me,” he said firmly.

“And you do _everything_ my sister tells you to do?” Nebula snorted.

“I do when she’s right, which is at least ninety-nine percent of the time,” he admitted. “Come on, let’s grab a store map and figure out where we’re going.”

There was a pause, though it wasn’t the kind of pause Nebula took when she was contemplating the various methods she had to kill a man, but an unreadable pause that made Peter shiver a little. Finally, she said, “Fine, but I want to go to the food court first.”

“Uh...not that I’m saying no, but _why?_ ”

“Iwanuhprezl.” She immediately turned on her heel away from him, though this time, she didn’t take another step.

“I...I didn’t catch that, what’d you say?”

“I want a pretzel,” Nebula mumbled. Peter blinked. Out of all the things he’d been expecting, this might’ve been at the very bottom of his nonexistent list. Still, he was pretty sure if he tried poking at what she’d just said, it would only result in broken fingers.

“I...okay, yeah, I could go for a pretzel,” he shrugged. They walked in silence towards the food court, Peter with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and Nebula’s stiffly at her side, her fingers tapping impatiently on the small pocket knife stashed on her belt (the only weapon Peter had allowed her to take). Then he brightened. “Hey, what kind of pretzel do you usually get? Savory? Sweet? Do you get dip? As a kid, I always wanted cinnamon sugar with caramel but my mom told me my teeth would literally rot of my head, but that didn’t scare me because I was like, ‘sweet, I wanna be a zombie!’ because apparently, the only word I heard was ‘rot’, and uh, you don’t care, so never mind.”

Silence. Then, “I want a cheese pretzel dog. I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Solid choice,” Peter nodded. “I can respect that.”

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were sitting at one of the bar tables in the food court, devouring their respective pretzels. Peter was secretly pleased to see Nebula was eating at what he considered to be the ‘normal’ pace now. Even six months ago, she often ate like her food was going to get pulled out from under her any second, having become used to literally fighting for scraps. Like Gamora, he never wanted to see Nebula lose her confidence or her strength, but he was happy to see her becoming more relaxed in her own way, now that she was realizing she no longer had to fight to live.

“So I’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me who you got for Secret Santa,” he said. “Can I at least guess?”

“No.” She took a particularly vicious bite. Peter wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

“Well, it’s gotta be a better Christmas than last year, considering you spent two weeks stuck with Yondu while we were in jail,” he continued, undeterred, chuckling a little at the memory.

“I retreated to my dorm the moment it stopped snowing,” Nebula said, rolling her eyes. “You really think I was going to spend more time with that idiot than necessary?”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Give Yondu some credit, at least he’s _trying_ to be your friend,” Peter protested. “Do you really hate him that much?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions?” she shot back, slamming her food down onto the table. It made an unpleasant squelching noise beneath her fingers in the process. “Did Gamora ask you to spy on me?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “She just wants me to look after you, but it’s not like she wants me to report back or anything. I just wanna get to know you better, that’s all. We never talk.”

“For a _reason_.” She stuffed the pretzel back in her mouth, chewing loudly. “Out of all the Terrans that I’ve met, I can’t believe it’s _you_ that my sister has gone soft for.”

“Do you...do you think I’m bad for her?” Had he ever actually asked Nebula what he thought of his relationship with her sister? The idea had honestly never crossed his mind. It was silly in hindsight that he’d never considered it, since Gamora put more weight into Nebula’s opinions than she wanted to admit. Surely, she would have voiced her disapproval by now.

“Why does it matter what _I_ think?”

“Because you’re the most important person in the whole damn world to Gamora, that’s why,” he said fiercely, leaning forward. “And if you think she deserves better, I wanna know why. I wanna know how _I_ can do better.”

Nebula was first to break eye contact, instead electing to stare at her feet. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I think of you if you agree to never ask me again, and never tell Gamora we had this conversation.” He nodded eagerly in response. “You’re loud, obnoxious, overly dramatic, too energetic, and you never stop pestering all of us about being ‘family’.” Pausing, she lifted her head, narrowing her pitch-black eyes as if to examine him. “But...I suppose Gamora and I have never had someone so invested in our well-being in a very long time, or at least one who never expects anything in return. You make a decent leader when you actually try, though your speeches are horrendous. And I...trust you _enough_ to eventually help us in our quest to kill Thanos, though I doubt you’ll survive the attempt.”

“Still thinking about that, huh?” he chuckled to himself, ignoring the passive-aggressive comments that were quintessential to really anything Nebula ever said. It seemed like eons ago since they first began seriously discussing going after Thanos, ending his terrifying reign once and for all, but he hadn’t made any moves in the last little while, giving the Guardians hope that they would have more time to prepare. Still, Peter knew Nebula was more anxious about it than anyone, even her sister. Her desperation for Thanos’s approval had been flipped on its side, now channeled into her hatred for what he had done to her and Gamora.

“You help her forget, even for just a little while, the unspeakable horrors we’ve been through, the horrid acts of pain and slaughter we’ve carried out in the name of a man who has done nothing but hurt us.” There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth that suggested she was attempting a proper smile. “You seem committed to making my sister believe in her self-worth, value her own happiness. So...I guess I can’t really fault you for that. Even if I don't care for either of those things myself.”

“I...wow.” Peter found himself struggling to choose his next words. For once, it wasn’t out of fear of what her reaction (or more accurately, her _retaliation_ ) would be, but of complete and utter shock. “Nebula, that’s...I don’t know what to say.”

“So you’re saying I’ve successfully shut you up? Good,” she smirked, though not out of malice. In a way, he felt as if they had reached an understanding of sorts, or at the very least, something of a truce. “Though like I said...if you tell Gamora any of what transpired just now, I will kill you.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” he laughed, bunching up his paper wrapper. “You ready to go?”

Shopping didn’t go quite as smoothly as Peter had anticipated, considering their conversation had ended on such a high note. Nebula was evasive when Peter tried to figure out where she wanted to go to get her Secret Santa gift, and the frequency of her eye-rolling increased tenfold once he requested they pick out more Christmas decorations for the ship.

“Don’t blame _me_ , we were all too busy to go shopping during exams,” Peter said defensively. “Just help me pick out the damn Christmas lights. Should we get multi-colored? White? Red and green? These weird purple-y ones? I dunno what’s up with those.”

“Considering the ship is obnoxiously colorful, get white for general use and multicolor for the tree.” He stared at her in disbelief. She suddenly seemed to have realized she had put too much thought into her answer. “It’s obvious, you idiot.” That was more like it.

“Mistletoe’s unnecessary since no one’s kissing anyone but me and Gamora,” Peter said as they continued on. “Plus, she’d probably hate the idea of forced PDA.”

“She’s extraordinarily tactile when it comes to you, Quill, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Nebula’s ability to tap her foot impatiently as fast as she was going was starting to give Peter a headache.

“Wasn’t aware I asked for the peanut gallery,” he snarked in return. The confused expression he got in return was worth it.

When they went into the toy store to look for presents for Groot - he was beginning to develop a sizeable collection of plushies as large as he was - Peter found himself swarmed by children who recognized him, asking him to sign bits of paper or their Star-Lord dolls. Beaming, he complied instantly, trying his best to reach everyone in the crowd of approximately thirty people.

“What do you do at that big superhero school of yours?” one brave little one asked him, her eyes so huge that it reminded him of Mantis.

“Well, we just finished exams,” Peter said. At the kids’ disappointed faces, he hastily added, “But we had to fight this woman who came from Asgard last month - y’know, that place where Thor is from? - and it turns out she was the goddess of _death!_ ”

“Ooh,” said about seven different tiny voices in near-perfect synchronicity.

“How did ya beat her?” one skeptical boy asked.

“There was this other woman who came to help defeat the goddess of death - her name is Valkyrie, you might’ve seen her on the news. Super cool, white marks on her face, big blue cape? And she got lots of the other girls on campus to help her with all of their weapons, and powers, and skills, to send the goddess of death back to where she came from,” Peter explained. “Oh, Nebula for example. She was one of them.” He gestured towards her.

“Are you a hero too, miss?” One of the littlest girls took a step closer towards Nebula. She looked no older than four. Peter shot her a pleading look over the girl’s head. He knew by now that Gamora had grown comfortable with dealing with admiring children, while Nebula still snarled at Groot when she was feeling particularly tempestuous.

“It varies from day to day,” she drawled, folding her arms across her chest. That seemed to satisfy the girl well enough, as she stepped back to join the rest of the crowd once more.

“Tell us more about the Val’krie!” one girl begged.

Peter chuckled. “Sure. Well, I haven’t really hung out with her or anything, but she’s friends with my girlfriend, Gamora - you guys know who she is, right? - and oh, man, watching them train together is super awesome…”

“How could you possibly stand being around those little creatures?” Nebula shuddered. It had been fifteen minutes since they had left the toy store, now armed with bags of free merchandise, courtesy of the manager. “Unpredictable, noisy, obnoxious, asking too many questions...you know what? Never mind. You must be entirely at kin.”

“Har-har,” Peter said sarcastically. “Kids are great when they're not tryna cause trouble. They’re just curious, that's all. You were never like that?”

“You’re asking me to remember a period of my life that has been long removed from memory,” she said darkly. Whether she had simply chosen to forget it, or Thanos had actually physically done something to her memory, Peter wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think it would be right to ask. “Are you telling me Gamora still has memories of childhood?”

“She never talked about it much. She says she remembers bits and pieces about her parents, but she sometimes forgets them entirely,” Peter admitted. “Is it like that for you?”

“As always, you ask too many questions,” Nebula sighed, though she didn’t continue on with another threat. Peter considered that to be a sign of progress. “Oh, there’s that store with too many shirts and toys.”

“Yeah, _Hot Topic_. Maybe I’ll buy something for Gamora, she loves getting her gloves there,” he replied, grinning easily.

They returned to the school campus a mere hour before dinnertime, loaded with a surprising amount of shopping bags. Nebula was in unusually good spirits after they had come across a stall selling toy weapons. She had insisted upon buying one for both Gamora and Rocket, wanting to plant them among their existing inventory and see how long it would take for them to notice. Peter was just surprised she even understood the concept of a prank in the first place.

“You’re not terrible, Quill,” Nebula said as they pulled up to the entrance gates. “Though I’m definitely not a fan.”

“Fair enough,” Peter replied as he passed their ID cards to the security guard. “You aren’t my favorite either. But we’re cool now, right? Like, less death threats and stuff?”

She side-eyed him before snorting, shaking her head. “Sure, Quill. ‘Less death threats and stuff’. But only because I don’t want to put up with Gamora’s incessant whining if I were to harm a single hair on your head.”

Upon boarding the ship, they were immediately greeted by Gamora, who was sitting by the entrance, twisting the multitude of silver rings that adorned her fingers rather anxiously. “No injuries, I see,” she said dryly as she moved to help them with their bags.

“We’re practically best friends now,” Peter said cheerfully as he began unloading his haul onto the coffee table. “Sorry, Gamora, you’ve been demoted.”

“I’ll get over it,” she shrugged, turning towards her sister. “Nebula?”

“He’s not a total loser,” Nebula replied, unceremoniously dropping all of _her_ bags onto the floor. There was a crunching noise that made both Peter and Gamora wince. “I suppose you could have picked a worse Terran to fall in love with.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about Peter,” Gamora said, smirking as she stepped closer to him, patting him placatingly on the arm. “Don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” Peter said, catching Nebula’s wary gaze. She was practically pleading him to stay silent. “I don’t really pay attention when she’s talking, to be super honest with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Gamora swatted him with a dish towel before pulling him over to the kitchen so they could set the dining table together. Nebula flopped onto the couch, kicking her feet up onto the armrest, smiling a little to herself. Yes, she supposed her sister _could_ have done a lot worse in choosing a companion. But he turned out to be a half-decent leader after all. _Friendship_ , however? That was still an entirely different story. Nebula didn’t want friends, never wanted friends, but...in a strange way, maybe he had become one without her realizing it. _Dammit._

* * *

“Gamora? Are you busy at the moment?” Gamora startled a little from where she was curled up on the couch, looking up from her book. Drax was looming over her, and if she were anyone else, she might have been a little wary about his otherwise serious expression, but if anything, she was just a little annoyed.

“Do you need something?” she asked with a raised brow, sliding her thumb across the page to hold it in place.

“Quill requested that Mantis and I make cookies for the team, but seeing as Mantis has fallen ill…” He trailed off uncertainly.

“You want me to be her substitute.” Gamora nodded in understanding, closing her book and getting to her feet. “Sure, why not?”

Drax gave her a grateful smile before they walked into the kitchen. They worked in silence for a few minutes, gathering up utensils and ingredients in accordance with the recipe Peter had provided them. Unlike the way Drax and Mantis cooked, using Terran recipes they had found in books or online, Peter’s recipe was written down by hand on a notecard. Gamora remembered when he had told her about the way his mother had indexed and revised her recipes, a habit he had since picked up himself. She smiled fondly at the messy scribbles on the card, the way Peter had written “approximately” at least half a dozen times in various spots, unsure of whether he had remembered it exactly right.

“How have you been, Gamora?”

She turned away from the stick of butter she was slicing up to look over her shoulder at Drax. “Fine, I suppose. My exams went well, I did all of my shopping, got all of the team paperwork completed for the year, and - ”

He chuckled, though not unkindly. “I meant your general well-being, not your to-do list. You are usually quite stressed this time of year.”

“Well, I'll tell you a secret, Drax,” Gamora hummed, turning back to the task at hand. “I’m _always_ stressed.” He let out a jovial laugh, a full-bellied chuckle that betrayed his otherwise imposing presence. He passed her the mixing bowl so she could add the butter. “I have relaxed a fair bit since this time last year, though. Probably because of my increasing closeness to the rest of you.”

“It is a delight to see,” Drax nodded. “Your happiness is integral to all of us, Gamora. It would be a shame if you were worn out.” He moved back to the other side of the kitchen to begin working on the dry ingredients. “Quill told me you’re starting your fight classes next month. Are you not concerned about your impending workload?”

“I can handle it.” She smiled a little to herself as she began stirring. “Besides, it’s not like I’m alone in all this. Peter shares my Guardian work, and Nebula and I have an equal hand in fight training. As I’ve said, if there’s anything I’ve learned these past couple of years, being with this team, it’s that we should let other people be part of our lives. There’s value in teamwork.”

“I imagine with the difficult life you led beforehand, it must be a relief to be here.” Drax pulled up a stool and sat down, facing her. It was a little comical, considering the stool was built for an average-sized person while he dwarfed it by a long shot, but he looked quite pensive otherwise.

Drax was certainly a curious one to Gamora, perhaps the sole person of the group that she empathized with the most, and yet understood the least. His single-minded determination to kill her when they had first met told her he was a brute and a bully, someone who couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He spoke with a diverse vocabulary, yet understood little of the semantics of language and socialization, perhaps even less than she and Nebula. Later, she came to understand it was the nature of his people, and she felt shameful to have judged him at all. Now, she had a better sense of his true self - kind, loving, fiercely loyal and protective of those he cared about, and she was glad to be considered one of his loved ones.

She was also grateful that he had never described to her, in detail, the deaths of his family. He had told her the general gist of what had happened, but a part of her always wondered if he still somewhat resented her for it, despite her having no hand in the actual crime.

“Do you still think of her?” Gamora asked quietly.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well…” She hesitated before settling down on a stool herself, opposite him. “A little while ago, Rocket seemed to imply he used to have someone - a significant other, that is. And he said that some people couldn’t be as lucky as Peter and I. It got me thinking, if our relationship made you uncomfortable, or made you feel sad…”

“I do think of Hovat.” Drax folded his hands neatly in his lap. “Perhaps not as often as you might imagine, but every now and then, I have a quiet moment to myself, and I think fondly of her. I think of how we met, the time we spent together. How, had I not invited her over to my family’s home that night, she would not have been killed alongside them. We did not live together yet, but it felt inevitable that we would someday. Now…” He trailed off.

“I wish it could’ve been different for you. You’ll get your vengeance someday, I promise.”

He shook his head, smiling weakly. “No, Gamora. I have no need for revenge any longer. Besides, I believe you and Nebula deserve the chance to kill Thanos just as much as I do, if not _much_ more. Despite having heard very little stories and seen no physical scars, I can only imagine that the pain he inflicted upon both of you is worth his death many times over.”

“We’ll get that bastard someday.” They both turned to see Peter standing in the doorway, wearing a ratty old band T-shirt, yawning and scratching at his belly. “You guys baking in here? Smells good.”

“As per your request,” Drax said, getting to his feet. “Another Terran tradition of yours, yes?”

“Usually, yeah.” Peter kissed Gamora chastely on the forehead before moving to grab the water pitcher from the fridge. “Better tradition than telling your kids about the night you made them.”

“You have such odd hang-ups about intimacy, Quill,” Drax chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

“Uh, would you like it if I told you, in _detail_ , about every single time Gamora and I have sex?” Peter brandished the jug at Drax and ended up splashing water on himself instead.

“I know I wouldn’t,” Gamora said loudly, prodding him in the gut with her foot. “Don’t encourage him, Peter. Next thing you know, he’ll request to be _present_.” Peter shuddered at the very thought, shuffling several feet away from Drax in response.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Peter said hastily, grabbing the cough syrup from the coffee table. “Just dropping by to get some stuff for Mantis.” He gave them an awkward wave before slowly backing away down the corridor. Gamora couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his antics.

“Such a strange one, that Quill,” Drax commented once Peter was out of sight. “But I must admit, he has become more and more valuable these days. I could not imagine the team without him.”

“His effort is quite admirable,” Gamora replied with a gentle smile.  They began pulling out the old, rusted cookie sheets, scooping up the dough and divvying out what they hoped to be evenly-sized dough balls. “It’s what all of us should be trying to do, don’t you agree? To be better versions of ourselves?”

“A good way of thinking about it,” Drax nodded. “You have always been the wisest of us all, Gamora. It is one of the many things I admire about you. Though honestly, it was also what made me curious about what you saw in Quill, romantically. His intelligence and maturity seemed lacking in comparison to yours. But I see now that you two hold the utmost respect for each other, understanding and devotion. I liken it to my relationship with Hovat.”

“I can tell by the way you talk about her that she meant everything to you.” Gamora leaned back onto the counter, watching Drax contemplatively as he slid the cookie sheets into the oven, wincing a little at the screeching noise it made. “Do you think you’ll ever seek another romantic relationship again?”

“Part of me worries it will be seen as disrespectful to what I had with Hovat,” Drax said, straightening back up. He looked anguished at the very thought of upsetting her. “In my culture, we believe that the spirit lives on. And perhaps her spirit will curse me for wanting to be with another.” He smiled in remembrance. “But she was not a vengeful person, my Hovat. I believe she would want me to be happy. However, I have yet to meet a person who I wish to share my affections with. Like with Hovat, I think I will see them and just…know. Which is why I choose not to go on those dating websites or ‘apps’ that Quill has told me about.”

“Smart move,” Gamora said dryly. “Well, there’s no rush. You have time.”

“Yes, I do.” Drax grinned a little wider, serene. “There are still many things I hope to do someday. I have already been in love once. I _still_ love her, of course. But falling in love again, it simply isn’t a priority compared to what else life has to offer me. Taking on Thanos at last, for example. Not out of vengeance, but a desire to, well, guard the galaxy. Prevent others from suffering the same fate as my family, as yours. An honorable lifetime endeavor, I would say.”

“And a hefty title and reputation to hold, at that,” Gamora added, holding up her glass of water. Drax let out a merry laugh and clinked his cup against hers, drinking deeply as if it were the finest of wines.

* * *

Mantis emerged from her bedroom, practically dragging her feet, inhaling loudly. She winced a little at the whistling noise her nose made as she did. She was almost over her flu – she had never fallen ill via Terran sickness before, and it was decidedly unpleasant compared to some alien ailments she had experienced while living with Ego.

She stumbled her way up the ladder to the cockpit, curious about the echoing sound of clanking and clattering. She expected to see Peter there, digging around for some lost trinket or gadget as he often did, blaming his misplaced items on the others as always. To her surprise, she found Rocket instead, who was frantically emptying out a large, worn-out cardboard box, muttering to himself under his breath like a crazed person.

“Rocket? Is everything okay?”

“Quill ain’t here, bug-girl,” Rocket snapped without looking up. “So you can piss off.”

“Do not talk to me like that,” Mantis frowned, getting closer so she could kneel beside him. She was hardly ever deterred by Rocket’s behavior at this point, having gotten too used to his mood swings. “Maybe I can help.”

“Do _you_ know how any of this stuff works?” Rocket gestured at the pile of what looked to be circuit boards and data chips, some of which looked incredibly broken and brittle. “If you don’t, I can repeat what I said earlier.”

“I only want to help,” Mantis repeated. “Tell me what you are looking for and let me try and find it.”

Sighing, Rocket threw down the flash drive he was holding and slumped back onto his hind legs. There was a sense of defeat in him that Mantis rarely ever detected, a resignation in his eyes so unusual it disturbed her. Of all the Guardians, she avoided Rocket the most, only ever interfering with his emotions if another was at risk. Otherwise, she knew he was secretly afraid of her, of what she could do. It still hurt her feelings a little bit, him thinking she would ever manipulate or betray his trust like that, but she understood where he was coming from. Sometimes, she was a bit scared of what she was capable of, too.

“My display’s been all outta whack lately,” he said, picking up the wrist computer he often toted around. “Something inside must’ve literally cracked. But I can’t find a match for the broken piece.” He turned it over to show her the open hatch, where she did indeed see a section with a corner broken off, the minuscule lights stuttering and flashing as if in warning.

“That seems to be quite old,” she said thoughtfully, carefully taking it from him. “Have you considered building a new one? You must be quite the expert in doing so.”

“No!” Rocket exclaimed, yanking it back. “I have to…I have to fix _this_ one. I _have_ to.”

“Okay. _Okay_.” Mantis held up her hands defensively. “Okay, then let us look. Are there more boxes of these things anywhere else? Have you asked Peter, maybe? This ship has many nooks and crannies we have never been to.”

“I already asked, and this is all we got, so.” Once again, the tightness in his shoulders melted away as he leaned against the box in hopelessness, the tips of his ears drooping. “Oh, this ain’t happening. I’m not gonna be able to do this.” The wrist computer let off an alarming series of sparks as if to agree with him.

“I’m sorry, Rocket.” She worried at her bottom lip, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t sure why this was so important to him, especially right at this very second, but she was determined to stop him from giving up. At least one thing was for certain – she needed to calm him down, not with her powers, but with her words. “Should I go get Peter? He would be more knowledgeable about what to do – ”

“No, _no_ , we ain’t telling Quill about this.” He yanked the device off his arm and threw it so hard that the glass display cracked on impact. “ _Shit_.”

Rocket made no move to pick it up, staring at it with wide eyes, frozen. Mantis crawled forwards to grab it and bring it back, turning it over gently in her hands. “It’s okay. It is only a small crack. The glass will be easy to replace.”

Suddenly snapping out of it, Rocket glared at her like she had been the one to throw it in the first place. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he snarled. “What, you not tryna read my mind or whatever the hell it is you do – ”

“And I have said many times before, I read emotions, not minds,” she said patiently, settling in across from him. “So if you are frustrated because I do not understand you, then _make me understand_.”

“No.” He shook his head almost violently. “No, no one knows, ‘cept Groot. And I aim to keep it that way.”

“I find another perspective is always helpful,” she offered. When he remained silent, eyes narrowed as if he were contemplating whether to snap the antennae off her forehead, she simply smiled in return. “When I was living on Ego’s planet, all I ever knew, for the longest time, was _him_. I knew what _he_ thought of the world, what _he_ wanted _from_ the world. And I went along with him because I thought he was clever, I thought he was kind. But that was because I did not know what other beings were like. Then, his children began to appear to us. Children of many different races and backgrounds. Some I knew for weeks. Some for just a few hours, before they would disappoint him. And then they would be gone, just like that. Still, I began to empathize more with the children than with him. I saw different ideas of what it meant to be united, to be a collective group of people, instead of Ego’s idea of The Expansion. To live in harmony. But I did not believe that _I_ would ever be able to leave Ego behind, as I was too used to being with him. I was becoming too reliant. It was not until you all arrived that I began to understand my true purpose. What I was meant to be doing, how I could help.”

Rocket broke eye contact first, casting his gaze down on the floor, arms still folded defensively across his chest. “Yeah, yeah, another perspective. You should really be in charge of that motivational speech crap that Quill’s a big fan of, y’know? At least _you_ don’t ramble on about some TV show no one’s ever seen.” She fixed him with another patient smile before he exhaled slowly, relenting. “You really wanna know?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”

Another long, shaky exhale. “This…this thing. It didn’t belong to me originally. It belonged to 89P14. Her name was Lylla.” He sniffled so quietly Mantis almost thought she’d imagined it, if not for the wetness on his nose. “We were both…monsters. Created in a lab. Except she wasn’t a monster at all. She was…sweet. Optimistic. Upbeat. A real good soul, y’know? Never gave up hope on thinkin’ we’d be able to escape the lab one day. We lived in cages right next to each other. And when we weren’t being experimented on, we talked. We could talk for _hours_. And the stupid thing is, it’s not like we had tons to talk about. Neither of us knew any sorta life outside of those cages. But we liked to imagine the kind of adventures we’d get to go on once we got out. It distracted us from the pain we were in.”

“What happened?” Mantis prompted, though she had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.

“What else? We got brave…and stupid. Or in Lylla’s case, hopeful. She always had so much hope.” He chuckled weakly. “We tried to escape. Devised a whole plan. It was s’posed to be airtight. But I guess one of the others must’ve heard us, wanted to get us in trouble so we’d get put through the ringer and they’d be left alone. The thing is, the assholes working in the labs, they can’t survive the outside air on Halfworld, so Lylla and I punctured all of their bio-suits ahead of time. But they didn’t know that, so they chased me and her all up and down the complex, aiming to stun, not kill. We were too valuable for that. But then we got to the final gate that would lead to our freedom, and it was stuck. Some stupid freakin’ fingerprint-protected thing, y’know? And Lylla, she was the only one who knew tech better than I did, so she insisted I run ahead and she’d get it open. Like a dumbass, I did what she told me to. I always did. So the gates open, I’m runnin’, and I turn around and she’s just standing there. All the scientists, they start panicking ‘cause the air’s comin’ in. So they just snatch her up and run back for cover. Gate closes. And that’s the last I ever saw of her.”

“Rocket…” Mantis’s eyes watered. She wanted to reach over and comfort him somehow, but the last time she had tried to pet him, it hadn’t gone so smoothly. Her fingers trembled with desperation. “I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry.”

“Par for the course, right?” He tilted his head upwards, staring off into nothing, his dark eyes glossy with tears. “When those assholes were workin’ on me, I was always in pain. Still am sometimes. But never...never _here_.” He weakly tapped his own chest with a shaking claw. “Not until that day.”

“Tell me.” Rocket turned to look at her in confusion. “Tell me if it ever gets so bad that it physically _hurts_. My powers are only a temporary solution, but at least it will provide you some relief. It will not make you forget her, or what she meant to you. I promise. Do not hesitate to ask me, Rocket.”

“You gotta let me have _some_ of my pride left intact,” he chuckled half-heartedly. “And it’s stupid – this whole d’ast _thing_ is stupid – but even though it’s just a dumb Terran holiday, Quill going on and on about how this time of year is for family and loved ones just reminds me even more that she’s gone.”

“I know we are no substitute for how you felt about her, but do not ever doubt that we care about you,” Mantis said, smiling warmly. “And…maybe this is a stupid question, but how do you know that Lylla actually died in the lab that day?”

“What…what do ya mean?” There was an almost startling spark of wistfulness in Rocket’s eyes. Mantis found herself worrying that she was already getting his hopes too high.

“Well…say that the contaminated air from the outside got into the lab. All the scientists die. Lylla and the others survive,” she said slowly.

“No, that’s…that’s impossible. They would’ve come outta the lab, I would’ve seen ‘em.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the scientists died a slow death, and the others had to wait. Or maybe they spent some time gathering supplies from the lab, or seeking vengeance upon the people and the place that destroyed them.” Mantis shrugged. “I am just saying, there are many possible outcomes here.”

“So you’re saying…if I had just waited…just a _little_ bit longer…I might’ve seen her again?” His ears drooped once more, shaking his head slowly. “I was just so caught up in the idea of her death that I just ran off when I could've  _waited_.”

“It is only one scenario, Rocket. Do not beat yourself up for what you did or what you could have done,” Mantis said reassuringly. “I am just saying…have some faith. And that includes having faith in this computer of yours. Surely we _must_ be able to find a replacement. If not on this ship, then elsewhere. You do not have to tell the others your reasons in detail. Just tell Peter that it is important to you, and I’m sure he will help.”

“…I could return to Halfworld.” He turned the wrist computer over and over again, as if it possessed some magic qualities that would tell him what to do next. “They’d probably have the parts I need.”

“There you go,” Mantis beamed. “All hope is not lost. It might be too cold to take the Milano out at the moment, but when it gets warmer again, we can go to Halfworld and help in your search.”

“Y’know what? You ain’t so bad, bug-girl,” Rocket said. He reached over to place a paw on her forearm, usually the kind of move that _she_ had to make to placate _him_. “Maybe it’s all that holiday spirit voodoo crap that Quill’s been talking about, but I’m feelin’ generous, so. Thanks. For…this.”

“I am your friend, whether you admit it or not,” she teased. “I am just glad I can be here for you. I always feel so much anger… _resentment_ …from you. Sometimes even more so than Nebula. I much prefer it when you are happy.”

He grinned toothily, baring his fangs in a way that made Mantis involuntarily flinch a little. “So do I, kid. So do I.”

* * *

“Well, it’s about d’ast time,” Rocket said triumphantly, watching as Drax hefted the tree a little higher on his shoulder, strolling up the loading ramp of the Milano as if it weighed no more than his backpack. “I was startin’ to think Quill was playing a joke on us, tellin’ us that humies put presents around a tree in their living room. Thought you were tryna mess with Groot or something.”

“I’m not _that_ big of a dick, thank you very much,” Peter grumbled. He was walking closely behind Drax, holding the accompanying stand and tree skirt. “Honey, you got the decorations?”

“I can already tell you went overboard,” Gamora retorted with a resigned sigh as she emerged from the storage closet. She was carrying a large cardboard box that was bursting at the seams, weighed down with Christmas lights, ornaments, and the like, all things Peter had been slowly accumulating over the last month in anticipation of _finally_ celebrating the holiday season on Earth. “I gave you a budget for a _reason_ , Peter.”

“Trust me, you won’t regret it once you see it in action!" He and Drax began setting the tree down in the corner of their already-cramped living area, carefully adjusting the skirt and fanning it outwards to make it look somewhat presentable. The others watched, somewhat unimpressed.

“It’s going to shed everywhere,” Mantis said uncertainly. “Is this really what Terrans do, Peter?”

“You guys won’t doubt me once we get these going,” Peter replied, walking over to Gamora and patting the top of the decoration box. “Come on, everyone jump in!”

“I hope you do not mean literally,” Drax said, apprehensively eyeing the size of the box. The look in his eyes told the others he was mentally calculating how many of them could fit inside.

“I never do, dude. I never do.”

They worked in hesitant silence for the first couple of minutes, an admittedly welcome sound considering the usual chaotic atmosphere of the ship. Nebula was the only one not participating, electing to instead sprawl across the armchair, watching as the others strung up lights, hung up ornaments, and wound some tinsel around the tree. Groot was standing on the very tip of Yondu’s fin in order to place the glittering star on top.

“What are these for?” Mantis asked, pulling out yet another plastic package from the box, the very last of the decorations. Each bag contained oval chalkboard ornaments with a small hole puncture, strung with peppermint-striped ribbon.

“We can personalize those,” Peter suggested. “I was thinking we could write our names, or maybe Christmas-y sayings, or stuff that we loved about this year. There’s fifty of ‘em in there.”

They all shot him dubious looks, unsure of whether they even had enough ideas to fill all fifty chalkboard ornaments. Peter faltered a little at the sight of everyone’s expressions, wondering if once again, he had overdone it in his enthusiasm. But then Gamora stepped forwards first, opening up the plastic package with her teeth and taking out a stack for herself, along with an accompanying piece of white chalk. She settled down on the floor next to Nebula’s feet, bringing her knees up close to her chest, and began carefully sketching out her name in neat script.

Yondu laughed very suddenly, startling Groot, who was still perched on his head. “Oh, hell, why not?” He proceeded to do the same as Gamora, grabbing extra for Groot before setting him back down on the coffee table.

Gradually, the others began queuing up for materials, Peter being the last one, an internal sense of relief settling into his bones. He sat next to Gamora, trying to ignore the sway of Nebula’s feet next to his head (he was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose). “Thanks, Gamora,” he said softly.

“I’ve got your back,” she smiled in return. “Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do.” He nudged her shoulder with his playfully, laughing quietly. “What did you love about this year, Peter?”

“Classes were more interesting,” he began slowly, tilting his head in deep thought. His fingers began drumming out a beat on his knees. Gamora was surprised to find she could identify the song quite easily, though considering how much time she spent in his company nowadays, maybe it wasn’t so surprising after all. “I really liked learning, actually. I don’t usually like school, but this place is pretty awesome. Oh, and we had _way_ more successful missions, since we actually know what we’re doing.”

“Other than the [one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11409660/chapters/26708643) where we were stranded on an abandoned planet and thought everyone else was dead,” she added, waving her chalk at him. “I can’t say that was entirely pleasant.”

“Figured that went without saying,” he chuckled. “I feel like I also made more friends this year, since there were so many new students that joined up. And I’m definitely closer to all the Guardians than before, which is always a bonus. I think even Nebula’s beginning to like me.” The swift, but gentle kick to the back of his head told him otherwise. “Ow, okay, I take it back. But it feels like a real family now. Kicking included.”

“Strangest one I’ve ever seen, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gamora confessed. She began sketching out a tiny version of her sword on her ornament, her tongue slightly poking out in concentration, eyebrows knitted together. His heart melted a little at the sight.

“And of course, _you_.” Peter slung an arm over her shoulders, turning to kiss her forehead. “Don’t think I need to tell you how you’re kind of one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I wouldn’t be nearly as happy or successful as a leader if you weren’t right here by my side.”

“We started off in a rough place back then, but I have no regrets about the outcome.” She slid her socked foot neatly between his, tapping him with her toes. “Being co-leaders, best friends, romantic partners…I honestly thought it would be too much. That it would mean we had too many responsibilities to each other, too much emotional investment, too much to ask of each other, but…I think we’ve found even footing. Both a separation and a merging of our roles, so to speak.”

“How romantic of you,” he teased. “You sound like we’re going into business together.”

She prodded him in the cheek with her chalk in retaliation, leaving a white streak in his stubble that was rather comical-looking. “Do you want me to gush over your virtues, _Quill_?” He shivered a little at the use of his last name – she never called him that anymore despite originally using it exclusively, and he had to admit, it sort of did something for him. “Lavish you with affection, boost your ego?”

“It’s all I ever ask for,” he said sarcastically, wiping at his face.

“You know how much I care about you, Peter.” She softened, her dark eyes warm with affection. “Please don’t make me say it when everyone else is in the room.” She was beginning to grow flushed with every word she spoke.

He dipped his head to bury his face into her jawline, pleased when she began to laugh at the sensation, her fingers digging into his side. “I can’t believe you’re _embarrassed_ at how much you love me,” he sing-songed triumphantly. “Aw, Gamora. I love you too.”

“Have I mentioned you two are insufferable?” They both looked up to see Nebula leaning over them. Now _she_ was the one brandishing chalk in their faces. They had to duck in order to avoid getting the spray of chalk dust in their eyes.

“This would only be the thousandth time,” Gamora retorted. She pulled Peter a little closer into the crook of her neck out of petulance. “If you don’t like it, sit somewhere else.”

“I was here first!” Nebula exclaimed incredulously. Peter couldn’t help but notice a childlike squeak on the last word, but decided against saying anything. He wasn’t looking to be blinded via chalk dust, not today.

“She has a point,” he shrugged. “There’s more room on the couch. Let’s cuddle obnoxiously until Yondu makes gagging noises. Again.”

“You know I will,” Yondu called from the kitchen, where he was leaning against the counter island. “You’re lucky I like you both, or I woulda skipped out on this nonsense a _long_ time ago!”

“I am not embarrassed,” Gamora mumbled as she dragged him over to the couch.

* * *

Yondu wasn’t being facetious when he said he liked Peter and Gamora, that he thought they were a good match. He knew the others had had their doubts back in the days of trying to set them up, but he never wavered, not when it came to Peter’s love life. After all, he’d grown up alongside him, watched him blossom from a scrappy little kid to a (relatively) responsible young man. Gamora made Peter incredibly happy, had become his other half in many ways so quickly, that Yondu was honestly surprised anyone ever questioned the legitimacy or compatibility of their relationship.

That being said, he wasn’t a fan of constantly seeing their... _intimacy_.

And okay, he was lucky enough to have never caught them in the act before. He had accidentally witnessed plenty on the Eclector when Peter was a bit of a flirt, enough times that Yondu was a little too familiar with what he looked like, sans clothes. But in a way, it was almost _worse_ seeing them cuddle.

“Not again,” Yondu groaned as he turned around from his spot by the fridge. “Were you even here five seconds ago, girl?”

On the battlefield, Gamora was fierce, relentless, unwavering. She stared down death as if it were just another face in the crowd. Seeing her wearing an oversized Christmas sweater (likely one of Peter’s), tucked into his side in the armchair despite it only having room for one, with a book in hand, kind of challenged that image for Yondu.

“Grow up, Yondu,” she retorted without looking up. “You would think you’d all be used to this by now, but you still insist on acting like a child whenever Peter and I are remotely close to each other.”

“I am Groot?”

“I didn’t mean that as an insult to children, Groot, I apologize.” Gamora leaned over to pet Groot in consolation, where he was stood on the coffee table, pouting.

“You’d think for a guy who schemed about getting us together, he’d be a little happier about it,” Peter smirked, giving Gamora a particularly sloppy kiss on the cheek. She wrinkled her nose and swatted at him, wiping away the saliva he’d left on her face.

“I _am_ happy for ya,” Yondu insisted. “I just thought you’d be the more private type, G’mora.”

“I choose to no longer fear intimacy,” she said patiently, setting her book on the armrest. “I feel most comfortable with myself around all of you, so I make the effort to be more affectionate when it’s just us, especially since Peter is a very tactile person. It’s not like I’m constantly hanging off of him in public. And it’s not _my_ problem that _you_ also happen to be here.” Peter snickered into her shoulder.

“Ri-i-ight,” Yondu drawled. “Sure, that’s what it is. Well, I gotta go make my call to Kraglin, make sure he’s doin’ okay. Anyone wanna join me?”

Groot perked right up, waving his arms in the air enthusiastically. “I am Groot!” he chirruped.

“Sure, twig, I’m sure Krag’ll be happy to hear from ya.” Yondu scooped him up and set him on his shoulder. Groot hummed happily in response, his little fingers holding steadfast to Yondu’s ear. “I’ll leave you two alone like you want. Don’t go defiling the furniture, now.”

“How do ya know we haven’t already?” Peter called after Yondu’s retreating back.

Yondu didn’t give him the satisfaction of any sort of visceral reaction. After all, he could hear a grunt that told him Gamora had elbowed Peter in the gut for his insinuation. Instead, he turned to Groot and said, “You’ve got some weird parents, twig.” Groot shrugged nonchalantly in response.

They spent a few minutes in comfortable silence as Yondu attempted to get everything set up. Coordinating calls with Kraglin was always a bit of a nightmare, what with him being hundreds of thousands of clicks away at any given time, but it was worth it. Yondu missed Kraglin fiercely, secretly wished he would come join the school alongside him, be on a team together again. But Kraglin didn’t like school, had never been good at it, and his talents clearly lay elsewhere – captaining the Eclector. And Yondu didn’t trust anyone else to do the job (especially that stupid what’s-his-face).

Groot was enjoying himself in the meantime, bouncing up and down on Rocket’s chair, squealing and whooping with delight. Yondu’s eyes darted over to him every minute or so to make sure he wasn’t entertaining himself with the buttons on the console instead. “Be careful, kid, or you’re gonna send us flyin’.”

“I am Groot,” he retorted, insulted.

“I’m just sayin’, that’s all,” Yondu replied, holding up his hands defensively. “Alrighty, we’re in, I think. Krag? You there, boy?”

“H – _zzt_ – ah – _zzt_ – yeah – _zzt_ – yeah, I’m here.” The speakers in the cockpit of the Milano screeched to life rather unpleasantly. “Howzit goin’, cap?”

“I keep tellin’ you to stop callin’ me that,” Yondu said, brightening. “ _You’re_ the captain now, Krag. Don’t forget it.”

“How could I? Everyone’s always hollerin’ at me about somethin’,” Kraglin grumbled. “It’s hell, Yondu.”

“Welcome to _life_ , boy,” Yondu snorted. “And watch your language, I got twig here with me.”

Kraglin’s voice immediately softened. “Oh, hey, Groot. How’s it goin’, bud?”

“I am Groot,” Groot nodded, clutching onto the edges of the holo-screen as if it would improve his chances of being understood. “I am Groot…I am Groot…I am Groot? I am Groot.”

“Uhh.” Kraglin paused. “What’d he say?”

“You think I know?” Yondu snapped. “I still don’t quite understand him yet. Getting there.”

“But you said Pete and Gamora, they can talk to ‘im now, right? Maybe you just gotta hang out with the kid more."

“How can I? He’s the most popular Guardian, no matter how much Quill pretends it’s him. Always being passed around from person to person, everyone wantin’ a piece of him. Must be exhausting.” Groot let out a whine of protest, reaching to pat Yondu on the face affectionately. Even Yondu could help but feel a little warmer at the sight of his large, dark eyes. It was hard not to.

“An’ how’s everyone else doing? All the, uh, holiday stuff Pete’s got going on?”

“Think the stress has finally passed,” Yondu commented thoughtfully, patting Groot on the back. “We got a Christmas tree inside the ship, ‘cause that’s apparently a thing Terrans do. We got presents, lots o’ sugar and sweets. Think we’ve finally settled with everything Quill insists we need.”

“You sure? He’s always been more of a last-minute kinda guy,” Kraglin chuckled. There was a soft _thump_ that told Yondu he’d just leaned back in his chair, probably propped his boots up on the display like he always did.

“Gotta say, Quill’s been more responsible lately,” Yondu admitted. “Guess he’s learnin’ that being captain don’t mean he can just boss everyone around. But y’know, it’s weird having _him_ tell me what to do.”

“You sayin’ you wanna come back to the Ravagers and take over for me?” Kragin joked, though something in his voice also seemed to imply that he might have been somewhat serious. It was hard to tell with the poor reception.

“Hell, maybe I can retire young. Return to the Eclector and do jack _shi_ – um.” He eyed Groot guiltily, though the little one didn’t even seem to notice, scratching at a particularly itchy spot on his belly. “Nah, I’m okay where I am. This Guardians business, getting my criminal records wiped clean? Fresh start don’t sound like too bad an idea to me.”

“Already done with your thievin’ days, huh? Don’t let the other boys hear ya.”

“They might just kick my a – _behind_ – if they did,” Yondu laughed. “Well, Quill’s looking out for all of us, but someone’s gotta look out for _him_. I know I ain’t his best friend anymore, but I still know him best.”

“Aw, come on, Yondu, you really gonna think like that?” Kraglin protested. “We ain’t kids no more. You can have more than one best friend. Me? I got two best friends. You and Pete.”

Yondu turned away from the screen for a moment so he could inhale sharply without the microphone picking it up, a lump in his throat beginning to form. These weekly talks with Kraglin were a relatively new thing, something they'd picked up ever since Kraglin first accepted the job as the new Ravager captain. It had started with Kraglin calling the Milano during his first week, desperate for advice on how to deal with the rowdy crowd he’d been left to handle. It had quickly turned into long chats about almost nothing at all, and it made Yondu feel both light on his feet and oddly morose at the same time.

Sure, life on Earth was pretty cushy compared to the life-or-death situations he’d run into as one of the youngest Ravager captains in the history of the galaxy, but there was something really captivating, exhilarating, even, about the simple days of do-or-die. He missed the days of when he, Peter, and Kraglin were growing up together on the Eclector under Stakar’s watchful eye. Peter constantly getting into trouble trying to explore the private areas of the ship, Kraglin trying his best to pretend he wasn’t terrified at the prospect of being caught, while Yondu was probably the one to perpetrate the act of poking around in the first place. Even the mundane things, like doing chores or eating breakfast together, were things he wouldn’t quite be able to do ever again.

“Cap? You there? You gone all silent.”

“I said not to call me that anymore,” Yondu said hoarsely. Groot was snuggling into his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. “Krag?”

“Yeah?”

“You, uh...you really sure you don’t wanna join me here on Terra? It’s got decent food and mighty fine women,” he suggested slowly.

“You know me, Yondu, I don’t got the brains for school,” Kraglin replied. Yondu could almost picture the self-deprecating smile.

“You’re smart, boy, don’t say that,” Yondu protested. “Hell, I thought the same of Quill, look at ‘im now. He’s been getting pretty decent grades, making good choices. That could be you, too.”

“I ‘ppreciate it, Yondu, but I’m good where I am.”

“I guess I, uh...I just miss you, is all. Haven’t seen your ugly mug in a while.” Yondu coughed awkwardly. “Say something, Krag, don’t make this weirder than it hasta be.”

“I miss you too.” He sounded choked up. Groot patted the console like he was trying to reach through to physically comfort Kraglin. They had only met a handful of times, but Kraglin was just as fond of Groot as pretty much everyone else was. “Hey, maybe I’ll convince the guys to drop ‘round Terra sometime and come see ya. Give us a tour of the planet or somethin’.”

“It’s a damn big planet, boy, won’t be easy.” Yondu tried picturing the Ravagers roaming the streets of New York City. Somehow, he couldn’t see that ending well, though the idea of them wandering through Times Square wearing “I Heart NY” ballcaps and chowing down on hot dogs made him laugh.

“We got time.”

“Right.” Yondu sniffled again. “I don’t know if it’s all of Quill’s yammerin’ on about being sentimental this time o’ year, but I’d like to move on past this sappy crap. Did ya finally evict that idiot? What’s-his-face?”

“Oh, Taserface,” Kraglin snickered. “Yeah. Threw a huge fit, but I got everyone on my side. There was this moment where he was tryna explain his name to us, said it was metaphorical…”

* * *

“Do we hafta go to this shindig?” Rocket complained. “I got a new gun I wanna work on.”

“You _always_ have a new gun you wanna work on,” Gamora snorted as she strolled out of Peter’s bedroom, barefoot, holding a pair of heeled steel-toe boots in one hand and her utility belt in the other. She was wearing a silky black jumpsuit that Mantis had insisted she wear for the occasion, and was now struggling on where to stash her weapons. “Never thought you’d be hesitant about attending a social function that involves alcohol.”

“It ain’t even gonna be that busy,” Rocket replied. “Most everyone’s gone home ‘til school starts again.”

“How ‘bout this?” Peter emerged from his room as well, looking somewhat uncomfortable in a too-tight dress shirt (though Gamora wasn’t complaining) and oxfords that pinched his toes. “We go for an hour, we mingle, dance a little bit, and then come back and go do whatever we want.”

“If we do not go at all, Janet will be quite upset,” Mantis added.

“I would prefer not to face her wrath, so I’m inclined to agree with Quill,” Drax nodded.

“Fine, but if it ain’t open bar, _you’re_ paying for all my drinks,” Rocket said, jabbing a claw in Peter’s general direction. He shrugged in defeat before turning towards Gamora.

“Do I look okay?” he asked as the others began dispersing to grab their coats. “This is _definitely_ too tight. But I don’t have anything else for some reason.” She smiled teasingly, stepping closer to rest her hands on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t make for a bad view,” she drawled. “And I think I’ll just take the one blade tonight.” She held up the multi-tool he’d gifted her for their fake one-month anniversary, twirling it deftly between her long fingers. “I’m not expecting anything dangerous to happen, after all. I suppose the most exciting thing that _could_ possibly happen is if you get drunk and puke on someone’s feet. Again.”

“I’m not planning on drinking tonight, actually,” Peter said as they both sat on the couch, pulling their shoes on. “I was hoping to hang out with you after we get back. Y’know, if you want.”

“Oh?” Gamora eyed him suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

“A movie?” he suggested. “If it’s just you and me, maybe _A Christmas Story_ , but if Groot wants in, definitely _A Charlie Brown Christmas_. He’d love it.”

“Why don’t we have Groot join us then? It’s been a while,” she said. Then she leaned in, whispering, “We can always kick him out of our bed later.”

“ _Our_ bed, huh? I like where your mind’s at,” he grinned as they got to their feet. “Everyone ready?”

The Christmas Eve party was being held in the Avengers Dorm common area, hosted by the effervescent Janet van Dyne as always. It was a reasonably large room that had been cleared of most of its furniture in favor of a DJ booth (with Vision at the helm) and a buffet table with drinks and snacks. There was, of course, an incredibly tall Christmas tree set up next to the fireplace, glittering with red and gold decorations, garland and string lights dangling from every wall and ceiling beam, and of course, mistletoe in every doorway, making every student a little twitchy.

_I don’t want a lot for Christmas…there is just one thing I need…_

“Of _course_ this is the song playing right now,” Peter chuckled as they entered the room, shaking his head. “I think this just plays on loop in Janet’s head all December.”

As if she’d heard him, Janet popped up seemingly out of nowhere, decked out in a poofy red-and-green dress, complete with Santa hat and, for some reason, a red feather boa. She was nothing if not over-the-top festive. “Hey!” she squealed. “Guardians, I’m so glad you came! It wouldn’t be a party without you.”

“Yes, where’s the alcohol? I’d like to forget that I was ever here,” Nebula interjected impatiently. Gamora pinched her in retaliation.

“I’ve got Steve on alcohol bodyguard duty,” Janet replied, gesturing towards the kitchenette. Captain America was indeed standing in front of the comically small fridge, arms folded sternly as if he were protecting some sacred item of worship (though on a college campus, free alcohol was probably the next best thing). “We’ve got a lot of younglings this year, can’t take our chances. That includes _you_ , Groot!” Groot hopped from Rocket’s shoulder to Janet’s outstretched hands, letting out a happy squeal at the sight of his friend. “I’m trying to get pictures of everybody by the tree – for next year’s yearbook, you know? – and I’m also hoping for some shots under the mistletoe. Peter, Gamora, if you would be so kind – ”

“Janet,” Gamora groaned. “You already have a good dozen photos of us, is another really necessary?”

“Another one’s not gonna kill us,” Peter whispered softly in her ear. “Remember, the _real_ number one rule of this school – _don’t piss off Janet_.”

“Fine, but you better get me a spare key to the gym before school starts, I’m increasing my training time now that I’m also teaching,” Gamora said to Janet, twisting her mouth in displeasure.

“You got it!” Janet said cheerfully, tugging her by the arm towards the closest tuft of mistletoe, and subsequently dragging Peter along with them.

The rest of the Guardians exchanged dubious looks before shrugging and dispersing. With her sister gone, Nebula stalked over to the fridge, giving Cap her best stink eye. “Move.”

“You could ask nicely,” Steve suggested. “And pullin’ out a knife won’t work on me. Been there, dealt with that.”

“Listen, you star-spangled di – ”

“Nebula!” She jumped at the sound of her own name, whipping around to see Mantis standing behind her. “All you have to do is say ‘please’. You always complicate things for yourself.” Mantis stepped a little closer, smiling warmly at Steve. “Drax and Rocket have requested I get a couple beers for them, if you would please.”

“Sure.” He handed them off to her, giving Nebula a pointed look as he did so. For all his clean-cut looks, he certainly was braver than the majority of the campus population. Most people tried their best to avoid any sort of eye contact. “Nebula?”

Nebula glared at him. “I’ll have a beer as well. _Please_.” Mantis nodded her approval, smiling encouragingly as he passed her another cold can. “Well, this has been pointless.” With that, she turned around and stomped off as angrily as she had arrived. Steve, who had seen just about everything, only raised an eyebrow in response.

“She is a work-in-progress,” Mantis whispered conspiratorially. “Pay no mind.”

He simply chuckled in return. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. But keep up the good work, Mantis. She’ll come around someday.” As if she’d overheard, there was a loud commotion not too far away. Their heads turned to find Nebula glaring at Daisy Johnson, who was shaking quite literally. “Um, maybe you should intervene before Quake causes a, well…quake.”

Before Mantis could move, however, Gamora peeled herself away from Peter, having also overheard Nebula’s snarls. “Well, that can’t be good,” she muttered to him before practically sprinting across the room. “Hey, Nebula! _Nebula!_ ”

“What?” she snapped, rounding on her sister instantly. Daisy took the opportunity to slink off, eyeing her surroundings carefully as she ducked back into the crowd. “What do you want?”

Gamora blanched a little. “You were fine before we left, did something happen?”

“Do I really need a reason to be angry?” Nebula cracked open her beer can and took a generous gulp. It vaguely reminded Gamora of when Valkyrie was in a bad mood. Or a good mood, really.

“Yes, actually. Because you can’t just go around acting like you don’t care when _clearly_ , something is wrong,” Gamora hissed. “You can’t fool me, Neb, and you can’t avoid me either. So you might as well confess.”

“I have nothing _to_ confess, Gamora. You’re starting to inherit Quill’s ability to invent drama when there _is_ none.” Another sip.

It was interrupted by Gamora promptly grabbing her by the arm and yanking her into a secluded corner, shooing away the couple that had been making out there previously. They looked ready to argue until they realized who they were confronted with, and quickly ran off without a sound. “I’m not inventing drama, I’m reading the signs. _You_ need to stop acting like I’m the enemy, because I’m not.” She paused, thinking back on the period of their lives in which they had been nothing _but_ enemies to each other. She shuddered at the idea of it ever happening again. “Not anymore. I’m on your side, Nebula, I always am. So if something’s bothering you, just come out and say it.”

Nebula folded her arms across her chest, sloshing her beer around a little as she did, letting out a long exhale of utter defeat. “What is it with everyone wanting to discuss my _feelings_ lately? Does it matter?”

“Yes, because what you want and feels matters to me, and it should matter to you as well,” Gamora said pleadingly, clasping her hands over Nebula’s tightly folded ones. “Are you not tired of being _mad_ all the time? Or wishing that the things that happened never did? I have… _cried_ , some nights, thinking about what we’ve gone through, but I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of being tired. And I want to be at peace with myself, with what I’ve done. It’s the only way I can carry on with my life. And I want that for you, too.”

Nebula sighed again, though she gave her the tiniest of smirks. “Relax, sister. My feelings don’t run _that_ deep. At least, not this time around. I just…I find it interesting. How similar you and I are. But this school values you so much more than it does me. Our classmates are all convinced of your greatness as a warrior and as a friend, yet refuse to make eye contact with me when I walk by. Like there’s some great _allure_ to your existence, while I repel people.”

“You have to admit, Nebula, you aren’t the friendliest of people,” Gamora said, relaxing. Maybe she was finally going to get somewhere with her. “And I don’t blame you. We have every right to be wary of who and what to trust. But we’ve been here long enough – maybe it’s time to decide who you think is worth your attention.”

“The only person whose opinion I value is…well.” Nebula awkwardly waved a hand in Gamora’s general direction, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. Even the implied admittance was something that truly seemed like a holiday miracle. “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. Terrans don’t seem all that inclined to understanding the nuance of our personal histories. There are probably some who still fear us.”

“And we should pay no matter to them,” Gamora said, reaching to grab Nebula’s free hand and squeezing tightly. “Come on, let’s go socialize for just a moment. Standing around in the corner like this won’t bode well for our reputations. Maybe you can talk to Valkyrie? If there’s one thing she likes talking about incessantly, it’s a good fight. I bet you'd like to hear about her time on Sakaar.”

And just like that, the designated hour flew by without notice, at least, until Peter approached the group of women he knew to never cross unless he wanted to die an early death (among them being Valkyrie, Elektra, Carol, and of course, Janet), gently tapping Gamora on the shoulder. “Hey, you ready to go?”

“I certainly am,” Nebula said, her voice as droll and monotonous as ever, though it lacked the usual hostility that came with it. Peter swore he could also see the beginnings of a genuine smile. Either that, or she was more inebriated than she’d like to admit.

“Wait!” Janet exclaimed. “One moment, before you leave.” Gamora and Nebula exchanged dubious looks before the other girl returned, hefting quite the number of boxes that dwarfed her relatively small frame. “If you don’t want me to buy you presents next year I’ll totally respect that, but since it’s your first winter holiday on Earth, I just _had_ to get you all a little something.”

“Uh. _Little_?” Peter held out his arms so Janet could unload them, his knees buckling slightly under the sheer weight of the packages. He could never understand how such a tiny girl could be so strong, with or without her Pym particles. “Thanks, Janet, this is really awesome of you,” he said, breath coming in short. He was certainly going to have a backache by the time they returned to the ship. With a patented eye roll, Gamora grabbed a few off the top of the pile and strolled off towards the exit. “Thanks, Gamora!” he called after her retreating back. Nebula merely snorted and disappeared to go find the others.

“Happy Christmas Eve, Peter,” Janet said cheerfully. “I hope you and the Guardians had a good time tonight. Between you and me, even _Nebula_ seems to be in the holiday spirit.”

“It’s weird, right?” Peter chuckled. “But hey, I ain’t complaining. Nothing’s better than a happy team, especially when said team members could totally decapitate me or something, I mean, you should see their weapon cache, it’s crazy – ”

“I’ll see you around, Star-Lord,” Janet laughed, interrupting him mid-ramble to pat him on the shoulder and vanish into the crowd.

Once the Guardians had returned to the Milano and went their separate ways, Peter and Gamora curled up in Peter’s bunk, Groot sprawled out across Peter’s belly, as _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ played from the projector on his holo-tab. “So I’ve been told Nebula’s doing better with people. Marginally.”

“We had a discussion of sorts,” Gamora said with a shrug. “But then again, we seem to be having said discussion every day. If anything, she’s probably giving in just so I stop bothering her about it. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“As long as you never give up on her,” he said, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. “But I know you won’t. You always get the job done no matter what. She’ll come around eventually.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m always astounded by the amount of faith you have in me,” she murmured softly. “I don’t think _I_ could trust myself that much.”

“I wish you would. And you’ve never given me reason to think otherwise.” He leaned downwards to kiss her briefly. Groot let out a tiny cooing noise at the sight from his vantage point against Peter’s chest. “But also, I’ll be the first to admit I’m totally biased.”

“As long as it’s not _blind_ faith, I’ll gladly accept it.” She grinned before settling back down against his side, turning back towards the screen. “So why was it called _Peanuts_ , exactly?”

* * *

“PETER! IT IS SNOWING AGAIN! YOU SHOULD COME SEE!”

Groaning, Peter slowly lifted his head up from the pillow, blinking blearily into the darkness of his room. “Whattimeisit?”

“Early.” Gamora’s face was still half-smushed into the other pillow, her hair splayed out across the sheets and tickling his nose. Hell, if _she_ was still sleeping, then it was most definitely too early. They often joked that her morning alarm was an attempt to beat the sunrise. “Want me to take care of it?”

“Well, it is Christmas.” He smiled sleepily at her.

Sighing, Gamora rolled over to face the general direction of the bedroom door and hollered, “GO BACK TO BED, MANTIS! IT’S TOO EARLY FOR THIS!” She turned back to snuggle into Peter’s side, draping an arm across his front. “Done.”

“GAMORA, WHAT YOU YELLIN’ FOR?”

“YEAH, WE’RE TRYNA SLEEP HERE!”

“I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING UP THIS EARLY WHEN WE HAVE NO CLASSES OR MISSIONS TO ATTEND TO - ”

“Shit.” Peter let out a delirious laugh into the pillow as he pulled her closer. “We’re never getting back to sleep at this point.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gamora mumbled, drifting off once again.

Eventually, at a more acceptable time of morning (when it could correctly be _referred_ to as morning, and not, as Yondu so delicately put it, “the ass-crack of dawn”), the two of them made their way into the common area, pleased to be greeted with the welcome smell of fried eggs and fresh coffee, handled by Drax and Mantis respectively. Yondu was sprawled across the entire length of the couch, twirling his arrow between his fingers, while Nebula was sitting on the floor with her back against the side of the armchair, staring off into nothing. Rocket and Groot were at the dining table, looking over the schematics of the gun Rocket had been working on last night.

“Morning,” Mantis chirped happily as if she hadn’t interrupted everyone’s sleep not four hours ago. “Coffee? Eggs? Bacon? Hashbrowns?”

“The correct answer is ‘all of the above’,” Peter replied, grabbing a plate. “Also, seriously, what was up with you this morning?”

“Sorry,” Mantis said sheepishly as she began carefully pouring out two steaming mugs of coffee. “It just looked so pretty with the sunrise coming in, I thought we might want to do those activities you spoke of before. Snow angels and snowmen, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sipped contemplatively after passing Gamora her cup. “All the snow we've been getting has been nothin' but hard ice. Maybe with today’s fresh snow, it’d finally be soft enough for us to do that stuff.” He turned to address the rest of the room. “Hey, guys, how do you feel about delaying opening our presents a little longer and heading outside instead?”

“Wasn’t looking to freeze my butt off,” Yondu said, frowning. “What you on about, Quill?”

“Well, you guys know that I wanted to go all out on Christmas traditions this year,” Peter said thoughtfully. “So maybe after breakfast, we could go play in the snow. Might be our only chance before it freezes over.”

“I am Groot?”

“Yes, and then presents, I promise,” Peter nodded, settling down at the dining table with his food. “Aw, Rocket, you’re really working on a holiday?”

“Holidays don’t mean squat to me,” Rocket shrugged. “I like workin’ on this stuff, you know that. Besides, once all this snow goes away and we can finally go on jobs and make money again, the baddies won’t know what hit ‘em. Here, take a look.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Rocket, and have some breakfast.” Gamora set a full plate down in front of Rocket with a little more vigor than necessary. “We’ll look at it, I promise. But let’s just take the day for us. We all deserve it.”

“Since when’re you the biggest cheerleader of ‘em all? You _hate_ having no plans,” Rocket said, eyeing her suspiciously, though he did accept the fork she gave him, digging into his food happily, letting out a noise of satisfaction as he did. Drax was surprisingly adept at cooking Terran cuisine, while Peter had only just recently learned how to stop burning his grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Ever since Quill infected her.” Nebula slinked over to the kitchen, smirking. Mantis’s eyes widened a little, her cheeks burning, before she wordlessly handed her a plate. “Still, I suppose it could be worse. This campus is crawling with narcissistic optimists, so Quill is relatively mild in comparison.”

“I’ll take it,” Peter said through a mouthful of hashbrowns.

“Excuse _me_ for wanting to believe in something for once,” Gamora said dryly. “The idea of going out in the snow sounds enjoyable enough. I thought you’d be happy I’m not insisting on doing drills or fight training today.”

“Oh, trust me, I ain’t complaining, just curious,” Rocket said, grinning at her so genuinely that she was taken aback. She finally sat down as well, on Peter’s right, smiling fondly when he reached under the table to squeeze her leg in greeting. Rocket’s face twisted once more in response. “Aw, come on, can't you go five seconds without playing footsie?”

“I’m just saying hi,” Peter protested.

“Yeah, sure, then ‘hi’ turns into kissin’, and nobody wants to see that,” he grumbled, stabbing at his eggs. Mantis’s eyebrows shot up in concern, her antennae attuned to the downturn in everyone's mood. She smoothly slid into the seat next to Rocket, giving him a warning glance.

“Peter, Rocket and I were having a chat last night after we came back, about some of the devices he has been working on?” she said as casually as she could, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous _thump_ of her heartbeat as she began to lie through her teeth. “He said some of the parts he needs are likely on Halfworld. Perhaps we should prioritize a supply run once the snow has melted.”

“You sure you wanna go back to Halfworld, dude? Didn’t sound so fun when you described it to us,” Peter said curiously.

“Yeah, man, it’s no big deal. I just need a crap ton of things that I’m almost a hundred percent sure are on Halfworld. It’ll be like, three days max.” Rocket shot Mantis a grateful look when Peter turned back to his food.

“Then sure, I’ll add it to the itinerary. But hey, no more shop talk, okay? Like Gamora said, the day’s for us and nothin’ else.”

“You got it, Quill,” Yondu called from the couch. He was attempting to eat lying down, the plate balanced delicately on his stomach. “That’s practically my life’s motto.”

After breakfast was over, the Guardians bundled up as best they could, including Groot, who had received a custom-made coat and wool hat from Janet about a month ago, making him somewhat resemble a jumbo-sized marshmallow. They carefully made their way off the ship, wincing a little at the amount of snow that had already settled over the Milano and was sure to freeze over later. Still, they soldiered on down the loading bay and out onto the open field nearby, the satisfying crunch of their boots filling up the silence of the relatively empty campus.

Giddy, Mantis immediately began twirling about, sticking out her tongue to catch the flakes as they fell. Peter jogged over to join her, grabbing her hands and spinning her around in an improvised swing dance. “It’s so pretty,” Mantis giggled as they came to a stop. “I did not know it could be so soft!”

“All the snow we’ve been getting so far has been pretty unforgiving until now.” Peter bent to begin clearing out a small area for them to work in. “So, let’s do it, guys! Snowmen! Er, snowpeople. And snow raccoons. And…snow…trees.”

“And how do we make these ‘snowpeople’ you speak of?” Drax asked.

“You just use the snow, dude! You can make it as fancy as you want, or you can just roll up a bunch of huge snowballs, stack ‘em, add a couple sticks for arms, and call it a day,” Peter shrugged. “Watch.”

The others stepped back as Peter rolled out an enormously dense ball of snow, humming along with the music quietly streaming out of his headphones. He pushed it perfectly into place over the area he had cleared and proceeded to stack two more on top. Peter sang under his breath as he used a small branch to carve out the details, starting with the seams of his favorite jacket and pair of jeans. Already, its resemblance was obvious, even without a face.

“Interesting,” Gamora commented, cocking her head sideways to better observe Peter’s handiwork. “Alright, I’m in. Guardians?”

“Sure, as long as Quill shares his music. All the crunchin’ noises the snow's making is gonna give me a headache,” Rocket complained.

“Gladly,” Peter grinned, setting the Walkman down on the nearby bench and cranking up the volume.

_Imagine me and you, I do...I think about you day and night, it's only right….to think about the girl you love and hold her tight...so happy together…_

For the next hour, the Guardians proceeded to make snowpeople of their own, occasionally running off in search of things like pebbles and branches to complete their work. Even Groot got in on the action, setting up a tiny snow-Groot of his own next to Rocket’s creation, which ended up being the same height as him. “I am Groot?” he asked Rocket.

“No, no, don’t grow out your fingers and break ‘em off for arms, that’s a terrible idea," Rocket scolded. “Just grab some twigs from that tree over there like the rest of us."

_If I should call you up, invest a dime...and you say you belong to me and ease my mind...imagine how the world could be, so very fine...so happy together…_

“Mantis, you seem to have quite the artistic touch,” Drax said, not even bothering to hide his surprise as he observed Mantis carving out a near-perfect recreation of her own facial features. “It looks almost exactly like you.”

“Disgusting?” she teased, flicking some snow in his direction. Drax frowned, scooping up a little bit of snow himself and flinging it at her in return. Squealing, Mantis ducked behind her snowperson before pelting another snowball back. “ _Drax!_ ”

Before the others could blink, Mantis and Drax had suddenly found themselves in an all-out snowball fight, sprinting around the snowpeople and nearly tripping over themselves in an attempt to run and scoop up snow from beneath their feet at the same time. Rocket immediately ducked to grab Groot before he could get trampled on, while Nebula rolled her eyes and continued on with perfecting the frown on her snowperson’s face with pebbles. She was never going to admit how long she had spent searching for the best ones.

“Wait, guys - ” Peter proceeded to join in, laughing wildly as Mantis tackled him to the ground a mere thirty seconds later. “G’mora - Yondu - Rocket - guys, join us - ”

“ _Ple-e-e-ease_ ,” Mantis begged, getting up off of Peter and tugging on Gamora’s sleeve. Sighing, Gamora gave in, scooping up a snowball of her own and smushing it right onto Peter’s face. “Yay!”

“Mercy, mercy,” Peter spluttered through a faceful of ice. He could already feel his eyelashes freezing over. “Can we partner up instead of having a free-for-all so we don’t end up killing each other? Gamora, you wanna be on my team?”

“Always,” Gamora smirked, holding out a hand so she could hoist Peter to his feet. With that, everyone proceeded to break off into pairs - Drax and Mantis, Yondu and Nebula, who somehow agreed to work together by process of elimination, and even Groot got in on the fun once Rocket told him he was in charge of making snowballs (“And nothin’ else, I don’t need you getting hit in the face today!”).

Peter and Gamora took off first, ducking behind a particularly large oak tree, while the others spread out across the field. “So, what’s our plan of attack?” Peter said breathlessly, peering out from around its stump. Nebula was currently hanging off of Drax’s back, her arms wrapped around his neck as Drax spun around in an attempt to shake her off like a dog, while Yondu was pelting him repeatedly in the chest. Groot was running for cover behind his little snow-Groot.

“Depends on whether we want to ambush everyone at once, or pick them off team by team,” Gamora replied, beginning to vigorously pack a stack of snowballs. “I’m faster, but you have better aim.”

“If we take ‘em out one-by-one, that’ll give the others time to find our hiding spot. You throw, I’ll make,” Peter decided, grinning stupidly. He had never felt like such a little kid all over again until now, overeager and easily excitable. Being surrounded by the people he loved most in the galaxy only made it more exhilarating.

He quickly began scooping and shaping, while Gamora watched the chaos developing further out on in the open, seemingly unaware that she and Peter had disappeared. There was something comforting, almost, watching the Guardians attack each other with harmless snowballs instead of cutting each other with words, something they did far too often. She was guilty of it herself, verbally picking and scratching at everyone else’s problems and insecurities as a way to ensure their compliance (or occasionally, silence). But now, all she saw was her friends whooping and laughing enthusiastically as snow and ice flew about everywhere. Even Nebula seemed to be enjoying herself, though she wasn’t quite as vocal as the others, smirking as she rained absolute hell on Rocket, who didn’t seem to mind for once, returning fire with a giant grin on his face.

“Ready,” Peter said triumphantly, presenting her with what had to be at least fifty little spheres of neatly packed ice. Gamora folded herself into sniper’s position, lying on her belly while propped up on her elbows. She eyed the others speculatively, before picking up the first snowball and flinging it with all her might.

“Ow!” Drax roared, whipping about, trying to figure out who had just hit him square in the eye. He had no time to go looking, however, as the next snowball had landed in his mouth. Yondu barely had five seconds to burst into laughter before three snowballs landed neatly on his fin, causing him to yelp like a small child in surprise.

Within thirty seconds, Gamora managed to obliterate the others, now all collapsed on the ground in a panting heap. Even Groot looked tired, and he hadn’t even been involved in the fight. Smirking, Gamora turned back over to lean onto the tree trunk to look at a slack-jawed Peter. “How did I do?”

“Freaking amazing, that’s how,” Peter said, crawling towards her and wrapping his arms tight around her midsection. “We make an awesome team, don’t we?”

“Always,” Gamora repeated, allowing him to pull her back down into the snow as he kissed her enthusiastically, yelping a little when the sides of their faces ended up hitting the snow. Peter’s already-rosy cheeks were getting increasingly pink, the tip of his nose reddening as well. Gamora began rubbing his face with her gloved hands to warm him up, chuckling softly as he began nuzzling into her neck like a cat. “You’re such a child, Peter Quill. But I can’t say I mind all that much.”

“Because you _love_ me,” he sing-songed, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. They were glittering with pure, unadulterated joy.

“Somehow, _yes_ , you ridiculous child.” She leaned in, kissing him again. “Are you done demanding that I vocalize my affection now, or do you need more praise before I get to properly warm you up?” In lieu of a response, Peter pulled her in even closer, deepening the kiss.

_I can't see me lovin' nobody but you...for all my life…when you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue...for all my life…_

“Aw, gross. Shoulda known it was you that got us all,” Yondu chortled. Reluctantly, Peter and Gamora turned to look up at their friends who had surrounded them in a circle, slightly disgruntled, flushed, and covered in slush, but mostly glowing with happiness. “Well, if we can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“What’s that s’posed to - _ah_!” Peter yelped as the others proceeded to throw themselves down on top of him and Gamora, resulting in Nebula’s sharp elbow in his gut and Drax’s knee landing on his crotch. Groot let out a happy cheer as he nested himself in Gamora’s scarf, cooing happily, while Mantis was sprawled out at the top of the pile, her giggling becoming increasingly delirious. “ _Dra-a-ax_ , you’re heavy as hell.”

“Mantis suggested group hugs would contribute to team morale. Do not single me out for my enormous muscle mass. I will not be shamed for my body, which is in impeccable condition,” Drax frowned.

“I just like hugs,” Mantis hummed happily, kicking her feet in the air.

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Fine, but we’re only staying here for two minutes, or else we’re going to freeze up and die. Then we’ll _all_ be snowpeople,” Gamora said sternly, though she softened a little when Peter moved to kiss her again. His lips were ice cold, but she felt no need to stop him, as unappealing as it seemed.

Rocket made another gagging noise before turning back towards the field. “Uh, guys...about the snowpeople…”

Everyone turned their heads in the direction Rocket was looking, only to realize that their creations had been the real casualty of their battle. They were covered in boot marks and imprints of the bodies that had fallen on them, utterly crushed to bits, splintered pieces of “arms” and scattered pebbles lying at their bases as if to signify the fallen soldier of their respective owners.

“Oh well,” Peter shrugged. “There’s always next time.”

_So happy together...how is the weather...so happy together...we're happy together…_

Once everyone had retreated back to the safety and (relative) warmth of the Milano, Gamora and Mantis began grabbing towels and extra blankets from the supply closet, with Gamora insisting everyone dry off and change before finally getting around to opening presents. Drax began making hot chocolate on the stove, while Peter pulled up the holo-screen and started playing _Frosty the Snowman_ to keep Groot occupied while they waited.

“Peter? Why are there so many presents under here?” Gamora began poking around at the pile of boxes underneath the tree. She wasn’t sure when they had amassed to such an amount, but it had become something of a small mountain. “I know those are Janet’s back here…some from Stark…these are the ones for me from Natasha and Elektra and Val…but what’s all this?”

Peter turned away from the screen to join her by the tree, smiling at the sight of the hand-written ornaments they’d worked on not too long ago. His favorite was the one where Mantis had written “MY NEW FAMILY” in large, looping letters, surrounded by little hearts. “My current theory? Everyone kinda ignored Secret Santa and just got everyone else presents, too. I mean, that’s what I did.”

“As did I,” Gamora confessed. She couldn’t help it – shopping for her Secret Santa had only led to her seeing at least half a dozen things she wanted to buy for everyone else. “But doesn’t that ruin the intention of giving gifts to only one person?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug. “Tradition’s tradition, but doesn’t mean we gotta stick to it, word-for-word. And hey, more presents for everyone. Can’t complain about that.”

“No, I suppose not,” Gamora replied, smiling. She turned to address the rest of the room. “Is everyone ready? Drax?”

He briskly strolled into the living room with a tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate, wearing the gag apron Peter had gotten him for his birthday (it proclaimed in bright red letters across the chest: “kiss the chef”). “Yes, let us proceed,” Drax said proudly as he began distributing marshmallows into the drinks. Peter made a grab for the “World’s Best Dad” cup and passed Gamora the one that said “I Hate Mugs with Funny Slogans” (she really, _really_ did). “Who will go first?”

“I think Peter should. After all, he is the one who encouraged all of these festivities,” Mantis suggested.

“I can get on board with that,” Gamora said as she settled onto the couch. “Besides, he’ll go crazy in anticipation otherwise. So, who was responsible for his gift?”

“Me,” Rocket said, raising a paw. “It don’t look like much until I explain it to you.” He passed Peter one of the tiniest boxes, a small rectangle the size of a paperback, wrapped in butcher’s paper and tied off with what was clearly some spare string he had lying around.

Peter ripped it open, curious about what Rocket meant, and opened the unassuming box inside. There, nestled in old newspaper, was an electronic device of some sort, vaguely resembling a remote. “Okay, I give. I can’t tell what it is. What’s it do?”

“I rewired a good chunk of the ship, including your precious tape deck,” Rocket explained, grinning so widely he was baring his canines. “That right there is a universal remote for the Milano. You wanna turn off the lights without walking around the whole ship? Pull down the holo-screen without getting up from the couch? Change the song playing on the tape? It’ll do it all. Genius, right?”

“Quill with remote access to the entire ship? Hoo boy,” Yondu winced.

“Rocket, I…thanks, dude!” Peter exclaimed, moving across the floor to pull Rocket into a giant hug. “This is awesome, man.” Rocket’s ears flattened at the sudden physical contact, before wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck as well, patting him awkwardly on the back. “I’m gonna use the crap outta this, trust me.”

“I’m already anticipating disaster. I’ll be sure to confiscate it if it becomes chaos,” Gamora muttered to Drax, who nodded sagely in agreement.

“I guess Rocket should be next then,” Peter said, sitting back down. “Who got Rocket’s present?”

“That would be me,” Gamora said. “Though I didn’t put it under the tree since it looks somewhat underwhelming. I promise it’s valuable, though.” She grabbed a small manila envelope from under the armchair and presented it to Rocket. “Go on, open it.”

Rocket eyed it doubtfully before breaking the seal on the envelope. Five small slips of paper fell into his lap, plain white paper with no special markings of any kind. The only thing on them, in Gamora’s neat handwriting, was the following:

_GET-OUT-OF-MEETING-FREE CARD - ADMIT ONE_

_(Note: This does not apply to meetings pertaining to galaxy-wide emergencies. You don’t get to opt out of Thanos-level disasters, Rocket.)_

“Considering you complain the loudest about my efforts to get everyone involved more than the others, I figured it would be a blessing for you to walk away without my interference,” Gamora added with a small chuckle. “I promise to say nothing more than ‘you’re dismissed’.”

“Gotta say, I was kinda skeptical at first, but I love it,” Rocket said happily, holding them up in triumph. “Thanks, Gam. You ain’t gonna see me at the next five monthly budget review meetings, that’s for sure.”

“I figured,” she laughed. “Just sign off on the ammo you need us to get and you’re in the clear.”

“I was responsible for your present, Gamora!” Mantis said excitedly, grabbing a lime green box with a matching ribbon bow on top. “I am hoping it will be of use to you.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Gamora said reassuringly. Unlike Peter and Rocket, she took care in peeling back the tape and untying the ribbon, neatly unfolding the wrappings to the point where Rocket was beginning to grow impatient again. “Oh, wow.”

Inside the box was what at first appeared to be just a small cube of soft black leather, no bigger than Gamora’s fist. However, once she picked it up, she realized it was tucked into itself at the corners. She began unfolding it, picking at the small strings and loops that held it together. When it was completely untangled from its own self, it was then that she recognized what it was – a brand new utility belt, complete with tiny pockets and a holster for her sword. Stitched on the inside of the front waistband was Gamora’s name in green thread that was a near-perfect match for her skin.

“What do you think?” Mantis asked nervously. “Since you are teaching fight classes in the new semester, I thought you might need a less bulky belt that would still allow you to store everything you would need, and something softer that would not weigh you down. Also, I hand-made it myself. I have been getting Janet to teach me how to sew for the past month.”

“Mantis, this is amazing,” Gamora said in a near-whisper, holding it up as if it were something precious – and to her, it was. “How did you figure out the loop-and-tie mechanism? It seems both intricate _and_ effective.”

Mantis beamed, pleased. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it,” Gamora declared. “Thank you Mantis, it’s perfect.” She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smiling when she felt Mantis let out a sigh of relief against her shoulder.

“And this is for you, bug-girl,” Yondu said with an unusual amount of fondness, handing her what appeared to be an old shoebox. Confused, Mantis accepted it, taking the lid off and setting it aside before gasping at the sight of its contents. “I sure hope that’s a _good_ noise ya just made there.”

The shoebox contained stacks upon stacks of pictures, postcards, news clippings, and the like, from planets and star systems across the galaxy, places Mantis had only dreamed of seeing when she was a child. It was no secret that one of the biggest reasons she had joined the Guardians was to finally experience life outside of Ego’s planet, to meet new people, see new places, experience everything she had never gotten a chance to before. Of course, there were many planets they knew she would be unlikely to see, places where the Guardians would never be welcomed, but this was a good start.

“A little piece of most of the places us Ravagers have been. I even called up a few favors from the other factions, see what kinda trinkets they been collecting themselves,” Yondu smiled. “I know you got a lot of spirit in you, girl, you wanna see the world because you don’t know how crazy it can be quite as much as we do. But maybe this’ll give you an idea of what’s out there, the kinda fun _you_ might get to have one day. Just ask Quill to take you there, he’s been to a bunch o’ those places. Have a good time.” Mantis sniffled as she began flipping through the documents, sighing happily at each new image. “Oh, no, you ain’t about to cry, are ya?”

“No,” she whimpered. Another strong inhale, this time rattling from her chest. “I still have some flu symptoms left.” Her bottom lip began to wobble. “But also, this is very kind of you. Thank you, Yondu!” Unable to contain her happiness no longer, she flung herself into Yondu’s arms, squeezing him so tightly he let out a rather undignified squeaking noise, unlike anything he’d ever made before.

“You got an iron grip, bug-girl, leggo,” he wheezed. She peeled away, giggling softly in apology before setting the box aside. “Alright, who was the unlucky fool who got stuck with me?”

“My present does not have a physical form,” Drax said, bowing his head. “So you will have to take my word for it, Yondu. But I noticed you have been quite glum lately, and were missing the company of your Ravagers. Groot told me after your last call to Kraglin that you were hoping to see them again soon. So, I made another call to Kraglin, and arranged for the Eclector to make a stop by Earth next week. I also got Director Fury’s permission. He will clear out space in the loading bay for them to land an M-ship and join us, along with excusing you from all your classes so you can take them around and show them your new home.”

Yondu blinked, at a loss for words. “R – really?” he stammered. Peter grinned – he’d never seen Yondu so flabbergasted before. “Boy, that’s…that’s mighty kind of you. You ain’t joking?”

“I would never joke about something so important to you,” Drax frowned. “I am not a cruel person.”

“No, you definitely ain’t,” Yondu agreed, clapping Drax on the back. “Thanks, Drax. Hey, maybe you could join us! I been telling the Ravagers a bunch of stories about good ol’ Drax the Destroyer. They’d be interested in meetin’ you.”

“I would be honored,” Drax replied, pleased, patting Yondu on the shoulder in return. He winced a little at the force of the impact.

“Is it _finally_ my turn?” Nebula groaned. “I have been waiting for _so long_.”

“Nebula,” Gamora warned.

Ignoring her, Nebula pulled out a hastily-wrapped box from under the tree and shoved it into Drax’s arms. Without a word, she turned away from him, apparently in no rush to explain her present the way everyone else had done so far. Somewhat confused, he shrugged and tore open the packaging to find a set of wooden carvings that were hollowed out inside, complete with a sort of intricate scroll-like design around its opening. He turned them over, perplexed, and startling at the sight of a name engraved on the underside – _Hovat_. “What…what is this?”

Rolling her eyes, Nebula stalked over to him, yanked out one of his blades from his boot, grabbed one of the wooden pieces, and slid it perfectly onto its hilt. “Sturdier handles, you idiot. Hearing you complain about knuckle cramps day in, day out, because you don’t realize your knife handles aren’t perfectly balanced, is painfully annoying. I needed to put an end to it.”

“And Hovat’s name?”

“The engraving came free if you buy a set of two or more,” Nebula snapped. Peter was trying his hardest not to laugh – this was possibly the most aggressive act of gift-giving he had ever witnessed. “So? Do you like it or not?”

“It was very thoughtful of you, Nebula, thank you,” Drax said gently, a tearful smile beginning to form on his face. “I do like the idea of keeping my Hovat close by.” There was an awkward pause in which he considered whether to hug her or not, but then rightfully decided to avoid potentially losing his fingers in the process.

“Last but not least – drum roll, if you please – ” Mantis began enthusiastically drumming her hands on her legs “ – for _you_ , Nebula.” Peter pulled out a key from his back pocket with a flourish and held it out to her.

“What the hell is this?” She snatched it up immediately, holding it to the light, expecting it to reveal further secrets.

“I know that all of us, me and Gamora especially, always bother you about being part of a team, part of a family, that kinda stuff. And you like being alone, which is totally fine. But the problem for you right now is, we know all your hiding spots, and we’re kinda guilty of tracking you down all the time. So, if you need somewhere to go where none of us can interfere, that key opens to the rooftop of the main library building. It’s in the middle of the campus so you can do all your weird people-watching, literally no one else has that key – not even Fury or any of the janitors – and I got it cleaned out. There was like, bird crap and tons of leaves up there. Anyways, that spot? It’s yours, and yours alone.”

“And you discussed this with _her_ beforehand?” Nebula eyed Gamora suspiciously.

“No, actually, he didn’t. But I think it’s a good idea,” Gamora said softly. “We mean well, Nebula, but I know you like your solitude. I know _I_ sometimes need a break from everyone, too. If it helps you deal with whatever’s going on in your head, take that key and put it to good use. But know that you can talk to us as well.”

Nebula swallowed. “Right. Uh, thanks, I guess.” She gave Peter the briefest of smiles, one that made him question if he had just briefly hallucinated. “I think I’ll be using this to get out of budget meetings as well.”

 “I am Groot?” Groot looked up imploringly at the rest of the group, wondering what his present was going to be. Since Groot was the only one who couldn’t make money or really go shopping in the first place, he had been taken out of the running for Secret Santa, but he knew that the other Guardians had worked together to get him something, too.

“Well, Groot, y’know that room we have set aside for you when you’re more…humie-sized?” Rocket began, scooping him up. All the Guardians stood and walked down the corridor towards the bedrooms, where Peter unlocked said room and swung the door open wide for Groot to see. “We thought it was kinda stupid we haven’t been using this room for anything. Well, up until now. We got Stark to build you a little jungle gym in the meantime. Turns out he’s good for something after all.”

“It’s kinda based off of, like, hamster playsets. We’ve got tunnels going up to the ceiling, ladders, monkey bars, the whole nine yards,” Peter said proudly. Rocket set Groot down inside the room, watching as the little one stepped cautiously, his already-large eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“I am…Groot,” he breathed.

When Peter had first gone to Tony, requesting the jungle gym, he had stressed the importance of it not looking like Stark’s usual gadgets and gizmos – modern, metal, sleek and shiny – but rather like it had been built by bare hands and a bench, consisting mostly of carved wood. The bases were painted to look like tree stumps, the bridges and ladders consisted of wooden slats tied together with old rope, and the decorative pieces looked like winding spirals of vines and branches, like the kind that sprouted from Groot himself.

With an excitable shriek, Groot immediately began climbing up one of the ladders to the very top, peering down at them from the rope bridge. He waved at them eagerly before running around and around in circles, swinging across the monkey bars with ease. Mantis began filming him on her phone, cooing at the adorableness of it all.

“I am Groot,” he said happily, beaming.

“You’re welcome, man,” Rocket said, grinning back. “Now c’mon, the rest of us still got presents to open.”

The rest of the present opening was less of a dramatic affair, with everyone passing around wrapped packages in varying states of neatness while they sipped hot chocolate. Peter had turned on the radio for once instead of using his Walkman, letting the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby fill the room.

“Should’ve known this wasn’t going to go perfectly,” Gamora sighed as she crossed the room to settle into Peter’s side, watching as Nebula began presenting everybody else with garishly ugly socks. “She can’t help herself, can she? Regardless, I’d say it’s much better than last year. I was still finding bits of plasma in my hair a week after we returned from jail.”

“That was possibly the grossest mission we’ve ever been on,” Peter agreed. “So, I did end up getting you a present, by the way.”

“You buy me random trinkets so often I have nowhere to put them,” she teased, squeezing his waist affectionately. “What is it?”

“Well, you’ve been showing more interest in Terran culture lately, but you’ve only been seeing it from my perspective,” Peter explained. “And, y’know, as much as I like to pretend I know what’s going on, I know I’ve got a limited understanding of Earth. So I thought you would like to see it from a point of view that you’d identify with more.” He handed her a hardcover book – no wrappings or other fancies – watching her face nervously as she examined it.

“ _Bad Girls Throughout History - One Hundred Remarkable Women Who Changed The World_ ,” she read slowly, eyes drinking in the hand-drawn illustrations. She fell silent as she read the description and flipped through it, her smile becoming softer with every page. “I guess this school doesn’t really delve too deeply into history outside of your world wars, does it?”

“And I figured if you wanted to learn more, badass Terran women would be a good place for you to start. I also got you a hundred dollars worth of store credit at that used bookstore in the city that you really like,” he added. “Do you like it?”

“I do, I really do,” she said, grinning as she kissed him. “Thank you, Peter. I’ll start reading it tonight. Oh, and I got _you_ something as well.”

“What? Really?” He watched as she walked over to the tree and plucked out yet another tiny box, kneeling in front of him. “You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Did you really think I was going to get gifts for everyone else and not you?” she teased. “It barely cost me any units, so don’t worry. And I like taking part in your traditions, Peter, they intrigue me. So go on, open it.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement before removing the wrappings and the lid to unveil what was inside, eyes widening in shock when he realized what it was.

Nestled among neatly crinkled decorative tissue paper was a cassette tape, marked “For Peter”.

“Granted, we don’t share the same taste in music,” she continued. “Your music _has_ grown on me substantially, however, so I compiled some of your favorites and some new things that should be to your liking.” Almost immediately, he pulled Gamora closer until she was practically straddling him, wrapping her tightly in his arms, burying his face in her neck. It had become his favorite place to be. She let out a surprised cry before returning the gesture with a soft laugh. “You haven’t listened to it yet, Peter, it could be awful.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Peter murmured, kissing the crook of her jaw.

“I have an inkling.” She leaned back so she could gently slide the Walkman off his belt. “Here, give it a go.”

With slightly trembling fingers, Peter popped out the tape inside and slid the new one in, closing it with a satisfying _snap_. He slotted the headphones snugly over his ears before turning one side outwards so Gamora could hear what he was listening to. He took a soft breath for pause in anticipation, before pressing play.

_Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings...of the bluebird as she sings...the six-o'clock alarm would never ring...but six rings and I rise...wipe the sleep out of my eyes...the shaving razor's cold and it stings…_

Humming softly with the melody, Peter began drumming out the beat on the small of Gamora’s back with the pads of his fingers once the chorus began, apparently having no intentions of letting her go. She was fine with that – she’d gotten rather comfortable here, though she had a feeling the moment the other Guardian stopped arguing with each other over Nebula’s godforsaken socks, they would spot them and tease them once again.

_Now you know how happy I can be...oh, and our good time starts and ends...without all I want to spend...but how much, baby, do we really need?..._

“Not much, really,” he said quietly in response, grinning almost shyly. “I think I’ve got all I need right here on this ship.”

“Ever the romantic,” she said fondly, cupping his jaw and leaning in. “Happy holidays, Peter Quill.”

_Cheer up sleepy Jean...oh, what can it mean...to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?..._

* * *

“Is there a reason we’re out here freezin’ our asses off? You tryna prank us, boy?” Yondu said through chattering teeth. He and Drax were having a rare moment of solidarity, huddled together underneath one of Yondu’s ostentatiously enormous fur-lined coats.

“It’s not _my_ fault you didn’t wear enough. I told you where we were going,” Peter protested, though mostly because he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction that he, too, was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes. Gamora, who wasn’t about to let Peter freeze to death or, more importantly, start yet another dick-measuring contest, practically shoved herself into his side, hoping her higher body temperature would warm him up before he started making excuses.

“That don’t explain things,” Rocket snapped. “What’re we doing, Quill? This can’t be another one of your holiday traditions, holiday’s over.”

“Uh, not quite,” Peter said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve, when everyone makes these big declarations of how they’re gonna change in the new year. And I know Gamora likes it when we set goals and talk about what we wanna do about our future, so I thought we’d just, like, do it together. Talk about what we wanna do.”

“But did we have to do it on the _roof?_ ” Nebula exclaimed, kicking some fresh snow to punctuate her point, sending a gentle spray of ice flying over everyone’s laps.

The Guardians were indeed on the roof of the Avengers Hall, where they hadn’t been since Halloween night. It wasn’t snowing nearly as hard as it had been for most of the month, having slowed to a near stop, but it was still below freezing, leaving everyone a little cranky and worse for the wear.

As predicted, Christmas hadn’t magically solved all of the squabbles and fights they’d been having. Nebula and Rocket got into yet another spat over nothing, Groot had a tantrum when he accidentally broke one of the swings on his new gym set, and Drax became boorish, confronted with his memories of Hovat once more. Yondu was secretly too excited to see his boys again to really let anything bother him, and he stayed clear of everyone else’s paths. Peter and Gamora were still in relative romantic bliss (Peter insisted they were going to be in the so-called ‘honeymoon stage’ forever), aside from the time she had tripped over the jacket he had left on their bedroom floor and nearly banged her head on the corner of his desk. Still, they were a little less high-strung and snappish than usual, mellowed out for the most part (Gamora blamed it on the spiked eggnog. She wasn’t sure _who_ to blame it on, but it certainly made Rocket and Yondu more agreeable than usual). Peter considered it to be a welcome change, even though he knew it was going to be temporary. The next major fight, a particularly stressful job or mission, was most definitely going to restore the Guardians’ status quo.

“Well, excuse _me_ for wanting to have a nice moment,” Peter complained.

“I think it is a good idea,” Mantis piped up. “I have always said it is good for us to discuss these things together.”

“Thank you, Mantis,” Peter said triumphantly, as if her word declared the consensus of the entire group. “First on the agenda – I know these were supposed to be here earlier, but with Surtur tryna cause Ragnarok, and Hela coming after Thor here on Earth, Fury’s had his hands full. But better late than never.” He produced two envelopes from his knapsack and held them out to Yondu and Nebula. “Welcome to the Guardians of the Galaxy. I dunno why there needs to be paperwork, but, uh, just go with it.”

“I’ll be,” Yondu said cheerily, ripping it open and grinning in ecstasy at the official declaration. “Never thought it’d be the kinda gig I’d be offered, what with my reputation, but I ain’t complaining if it gets me units and fame.”

“C’mon, Yondu, we know that’s not _all_ you’re about,” Peter chuckled, patting him on the back. “But congrats, dude. I’m proud of you.”

Nebula, however, was still staring at the envelope in her hands as if she were expecting it to spontaneously burst into flames. Gamora watched her cautiously for a moment before pulling away from Peter’s embrace to gently grasp her arm. “Nebula…I know I’ve been pressuring you a lot lately about being part of this team. But that choice is _yours_ to make. If you prefer to just remain a student and not accompany us as a Guardian, I understand. It doesn’t mean we’ll kick you out or abandon you.”

“How did you accept it so easily?” Nebula’s voice was so quiet, only Gamora could hear. “Pretending to be a saint, and forgetting you were ever a sinner?”

“You sound like you’ve been talking to Murdock too often,” Gamora commented with a shake of her head. “I haven’t forgotten what I’ve done, Nebula. But I just want to move past it, and this is how I do it. Every planet that I help, every life that I save – and maybe this sounds selfish – it makes me feel better. It restores my faith in _myself_ , and that’s where I need to start. I no longer feel the need to answer for what I did when I served Thanos, because this right here? _This_ is my answer. My new purpose. And maybe it’s yours as well. But it doesn’t have to be.”

“Well, not that legality has ever stopped me before, but I suppose having it can’t hurt.” Nebula gave her a tentative smile before tearing the envelope open, staring at the neatly-typed print of her name at the very top, scanning over the brief paragraph that congratulated her on her official Guardian membership. “Quill, this doesn’t mean it gives you the right to tell me what to do.”

“Actually, that’s kind of exactly what it means,” Peter shot back. “Whether you listen is a different story.”

Nebula blanched at his response before smirking, somewhat impressed. “He bites back,” she snorted. “Maybe my sister didn’t choose so poorly after all. Alright then, Quill. How does this ‘resolution’ thing work?”

“Well, I was thinking we could each set one personal goal and one goal for the group,” Peter suggested. “Here, we’ll write it out.” He pulled out his holo-tab and opened a blank note, its large projector screen hovering in front of everyone’s faces. “Who wants to start?”

“Me,” Mantis said, waving a hand in the air enthusiastically like a schoolchild. “I _do_ like helping you all with your feelings. I believe it is one of my greatest purposes here. But I have spent so much time assisting you, that I have not taken the time to understand myself. So I would like to spend more time focusing on who I am and who I want to be. Does that make sense?” She looked around at them, her eyes darting from person to person nervously. Drax patted her in reassurance, smiling encouragingly. “Um, and I think one thing we could do as a group is confront our problems right away. Many of the fights we have had are simply because of miscommunication. If we clarify our issues early on, then maybe they will not happen as often.”

“That’s a great idea, Mantis,” Gamora praised. “Granted, I don’t know if it’ll work, but there’s no harm in trying.”

“Is that you volunteering to go next?” Peter said with a quirk of his eyebrows as he finished typing Mantis’s suggestion.

“Fine,” Gamora said, though not before fixing him with a glare. “I want to have a more active role in this school’s community. I spent far too long in the first year of us being here wallowing in self-doubt, assuming everyone despised me. In reality, this planet has very little idea of my past. I don’t want to miss the opportunity for more allies in our eventual fight against Thanos, so maybe I need to take advantage of that. Besides, having friends doesn’t seem so bad after all,” she added with a chuckle. “As for the team…I’ve been saying for a while now, if we all just have stronger focus, stronger _discipline_ , we won’t have as many issues. I wouldn’t lecture you all nearly as much as I do if you paid more attention. Look at Peter, for example. His productivity is much improved.”

“That’s probably ‘cause you got him wrapped around your finger, but okay,” Rocket snorted. “Alright, I’ll go next. I was thinkin’ about other ways to make some quick cash, make myself useful while we’re here, so I think I wanna offer up my services as an engineer. Teach other people how to fix their crap. Plus, that money’ll strictly be mine and I won’t have to share with you losers. _And_ , it’ll piss off Stark. As for all of _us_ …I dunno, if you guys can learn more about how to do quick fixes on the ship, that’d save me a lot of time. I can teach ya.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, can I charge _you_ guys for engineering tutorials?”

“ _No_ , Rocket,” Gamora said sternly. He muttered a couple choice nonsensical words under his breath in response, though nothing distinctive enough for her enhanced hearing to catch.

“Like Gamora, I like the idea of having more companionship in my life,” Drax said thoughtfully. He was twirling one of his blades absentmindedly, watching as Hovat’s engraved name spun over and over as he did. He knew he would never find one quite like her, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t _want_ a replacement Hovat. Romantic pursuits were about the last thing on his mind, at least for now. “Perhaps I will reach out to the other warriors on campus, see if we are as like-minded as I hoped. Thor, Korg, Hulk…”

“You can all bond over having four-letter mononymous names,” Peter suggested. Gamora prodded him in warning. “ _Ow._ I’m just saying.”

“In regards to the team…I must admit, I don’t spend as much time with you all as I would like,” Drax continued, ignoring Peter’s quip. “I think these traditions of yours, Quill…while they might seem strange to us, I suppose much of our culture also seems foreign to you. Such as my father’s story of impregnating my mother.” The others winced – it was frankly foreign to _everyone_. “But they also made me appreciate everyone more, not just as people to fight with, but as my family. I think we should engage in more non-combative activities to strengthen our bond.”

“It’ll be difficult with school and missions and the other craziness we’ve got going on, but I like where your mind’s at,” Peter replied, pleased.

“My mind is right where it has always been,” Drax said firmly.

“Right, my turn,” Yondu interrupted. “I aim to do better at school. I like the idea of getting my criminal record wiped clean, and that won’t happen if I keep skippin’ classes and filling out them Scantrons with nothin’ but A’s.”

“And answering every question that begins with ‘can you explain’ with ‘no’,” Gamora added.

“And nappin’ under the desk in the engineering labs,” Rocket continued.

“ _And_ writing my name on all of your essays!” Peter exclaimed. “Dude, I almost failed Criminology because of you. I’m not even _taking_ Criminology!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya,” Yondu grumbled. “Like I was sayin’ – I’ll try harder next semester. And I honestly got nothing for the rest of us to do, because you’ve all suggested just about everything already. I like Drax’s suggestion of more fun, though. That’s all _I_ want outta life.”

“Fair enough,” Gamora nodded. “Nebula? Thoughts?”

“Well, you all appear to be on a self-improvement kick. How predictable,” Nebula snarked, turning around so her back was against the railing, arms folded firmly over her chest. Sitting on the snow-covered ground was starting to leave unflattering wet spots on everyone’s backsides. “I’ll just settle with figuring out my role on this team. I don't care to worry about the rest of you. I don't have the patience for it."

“Well, at least you’re honest,” Gamora sighed. “Groot?”

“I am Groot,” he suggested tentatively from his spot on Rocket’s shoulder. “I am Groot?”

“Fewer tantrums sounds awesome, dude,” Peter chuckled. “Am I the last one? Okay then, uh…I wanna be a better leader. I know I do a lot of talking, but I wanna listen more. At least, this talk we’re having right now, that’s a start, right? I just…I get so _excited_ thinking about what I do for a living, and who I get to do it with, and I want us to be the best damn heroes this galaxy’s ever seen. But…I know it’s hard to do that without great leadership. Not that that’s a slight against you, Gamora, you’re doing awesome,” he added quickly.

“I had no doubts,” she said dryly, though she reached to squeeze his hand in thanks. “And your suggestion for the Guardians as a whole?”

“This is kinda adding on to Mantis’s, but…don’t feel like you have to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself.” He smiled at them ruefully. “We’ve all dealt with shit. We’re _still_ dealing with shit every day. But as Gamora likes to tell me, two of the most important things in relationships are trust and honesty. So like, _say something_ if you’re having a bad day, or you don’t like something that’s been going on. We’re a team, not a bunch of people who just happen to work together.”

“Thought you were about to launch into another motivational speech for a second, and I zoned out,” Rocket snorted. “But sure, I’ll bite, Quill. More talking, like we don’t got enough of that already. Can we go now? There’s icicles in my fur, and it ain’t pleasant.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, grumpy,” Peter laughed, getting to his feet. Everyone began following suit, chatting nonsensically to each other as they did. It was beginning to snow again, this time in small, but densely packed flakes. “Okay, we _really_ need to get outta here, come on!”

They filed in through the roof access door one by one, shivering profusely. Nebula hesitated, wondering whether now was the right time to do it. _Well, you’ve never been scared before, what’s stopping you this time?_ she thought, watching as the others vanished from sight. “Mantis,” she called.

The other girl turned in the doorway, blinking at her in confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward. Nebula supposed she couldn’t blame her for being cautious – her hands were clasped behind her back, probably giving Mantis the impression she was about to pull out a blade or something.

“When I was at the mall with Quill, he mentioned that you were on a personal journey or whatever.” She practically shoved the item into Mantis’s gut, causing her to let out a small “oof”. “I thought this might be of use, especially since – like brother, like sister – you like to talk so much.”

Though the snow was starting to blur her vision, Mantis could vaguely make out what she was looking at – a book, heavy with a plush green cover, the word ‘journal’ embossed in gold cursive. Each page, made of thick cream-colored stock, was edged with gold to match. There were prompts on every other page, suggestions of what to write or think about, along with a small box to mark moods and feelings. It was the sort of thing Nebula scoffed at, something she would describe as “utterly pretentious”, but to Mantis, it was a step in the right direction.

“This must have been quite expensive,” Mantis pondered aloud, looking back up at Nebula. Her large eyelashes were now coated with flecks of snow, making her eyes appear even bigger than usual, cheeks unusually flushed.

“I can take it back if you don’t want it,” Nebula snapped, taking another step forward to snatch it back. Mantis immediately leaped away, clutching the book to her chest protectively.

“No, I do, it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for the gift. I will most definitely put it to good use.” She smiled softly, reaching to awkwardly pat the other girl’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Nebula.”

“Christmas is over, you weirdo,” Nebula huffed, hastily brushing past her to catch up with the rest of the Guardians. Mantis chuckled to herself before turning to hurry down the stairs. It really was getting too cold for comfort, though if her chest was feeling a little warmer than it had been a minute ago, no one needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, lovelies! I hope this fic gave you the warm fuzzies like it did when I was writing it. I also wanted to explore some other dynamics this time around instead of solely focusing on Peter/Gamora as I usually do, so I hope you enjoyed that as well.
> 
> Some present visuals - [this](https://www.amazon.com/Bad-Girls-Throughout-History-Remarkable/dp/1452153930) is the book that Peter gave Gamora (11/10, would recommend, by the way), and Groot's gym somewhat looks like [this](http://i2.wp.com/syonpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/rustic-teen-rooms-kids-with-double-bed-bunk-traditional-clocks.jpg), but if you've ever been to one of those indoor children's play centers you kinda get what I mean. Also, two more songs from Peter's mix, "For Gamora" - [December 1963: Oh, What A Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JsPiofwi87ocZcrWgCwY8) by The Four Seasons, and [Happy Together](https://open.spotify.com/track/1JO1xLtVc8mWhIoE3YaCL0) by The Turtles. The song from Gamora’s mix, “For Peter”, is [Daydream Believer](https://open.spotify.com/track/1izBRnjNiVRughOs4XkcnP) by The Monkees. Also, Rocket's backstory with Lylla is partially based on their [Telltale counterparts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvokNmK5A0o), in case any of you were wondering what she looks like.
> 
> Since this is the last twenty questions fic of the year, I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read this fic and any of the others in this series! This 'verse is kind of my baby and I love being able to play around with the different relationships and ongoing storylines. I'm currently working on my other huge AU, [everybody wants to rule the world](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12841176/chapters/29320596), so I won't be writing as much for this one at the moment, but hopefully, I'll have another one-shot in this series for Valentine's Day!
> 
> Again, thank you so so _so_ much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. Comments and kudos would be much appreciated, and I'll see you all next time!


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